


Gratuitous: One-Shots

by RachelTheHero



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, One-Shots, Reader is Not My Unit | Byleth, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 53
Words: 173,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22013110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachelTheHero/pseuds/RachelTheHero
Summary: A Collection of Dimitri/Reader one-shots, mostly in the canon of the fic Gratuitous. Post story events like a promised fencing bout, a wedding, and whatever else - and also alternate versions of chapters in the original work.I'll happily take requests, if you've got any scenario you want to see - it does not have to be Gratuitous exclusive. Happy reading ^_^
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Reader
Comments: 522
Kudos: 609





	1. Alternate Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

> So hey, technically this was going to be a thing that happened during chapter seven of Gratuitous - but that chapter was soooooo long already, and honestly, the more I dwelled on this idea, the more I felt it did not fit in with the tone and story beats I was trying to cover with that chapter. Still, I liked the idea enough to expand on it just a wee bit. It’s a one shot, and a ‘canon divergence’ from the canon of the other fic, how bout that? Does that make sense? You’re still the same reader insert from that story, but things are just a lil bit different in the reality where this occurred. Um... Does that make sense? Maybe give that a skim if you haven’t read that before to get up to speed on who you are in this universe..?  
> TBH, unless otherwise stated most of these one shots are going to be connected to Gratuitous.

The fight at the Great Bridge of Myrdinn was not quite what you would call a clusterfuck, but you would not have faulted someone for seeing it that way. The Kingdom’s victory was quite apparent the second a certain man from Duscur rolled up to the party with more reinforcements than necessary. The actual troops on the ground were not the issue at hand. General Ladislava got taken out quite swiftly, dear Lorenz got smacked upside the head by the Professor, and surrendered, and that Acheron guy... What about him? He lived like a coward, he died like one too.

No, no. The issue on the table was the artificial crest beast that the empire had thrown onto the bridge was attacking everything with a pulse. That included the Kingdom army, the Empire troops, and the surrendered Imperial-Alliance soldiers. Oh, and you, technically, because you were there too, but then again, you fell under the Kingdom category. The thing was going absolutely berserk - and that was really saying something when applied to a literal monster. It was not directly targeting you, the humble medic, but you were on the field trying to assist the injured, and that meant you were more exposed to danger. It was a combined effort by remaining troops from all sides to try and end the beast - solidarity. How quaint in this here war...

For the most part, you were staying out of it. At least, you were early on because Felix had nagged you, and The Prince... Dimitri, in all his renewed brooding demeanor had softened for a moment to ask you to be more cautious. It touched you enough for you to acquiesce to that request for a time. You had watched him get worse and worse, more and more ruthless and angry. But he eased the hatred for you out of concern for your safety. You knew he still had a heart!

But you could not abide by that request when that monster had knocked his Heroes Relic out of his hand. It was a blink and you’ll miss it moment. One moment there was a crowd of soldiers trying to spike the beast down, His Highness driving Areadbhar through part of the odd stone mask, shattering it because he was just that unreasonably angry and strong. And then the next the beast lashed out, smashing into the troops and The Prince, sending them all sprawling. You watched in horror as his head cracked against the stone of the bridge, seeming to knock him out cold. Meanwhile, the lance landed about fifty feet away from you.

“Aw, fuck...” You hadn’t meant to say it outloud. You were usually extremely good at keeping your foul internal monologue to yourself, especially on the battlefield. Medics had to be calm and stable. They had to be reassuring to people. This wasn’t a good situation for anyone though. To put it lightly, shit was lookin’ kinda dicey. You continued to mumble “Aw, fuck. Aw, fuck...” as you felt your dumbass feet make a mad dash for the lance. You didn’t know what you were going to do with it when you got it, but you figured it was better with you than with someone else. 

And viola~! The legendary Areadbhar was in your delicate grasp, and gee golly gosh, did you fucking hate it all ready. Something about it had rubbed you the wrong way since you had first laid eyes on it. You couldn’t figure out why, but the day Lord Fraldarius had turned over the Prince’s birthright weapon filled you with an inexplicable dread. Maybe it was the way he had looked at it - that grim satisfaction on his face as he stared at the weapon he intended to use to the fullest extent in his quest for vengeance. Maybe it was that strange look it had - like a skeletal-mummified hand. Maybe it was the fact that the hand twitched on its own occasionally. Who's to say? It could have been any one, or any combination of those things. At present, it was the way it pulsed in your hands, as though it was alive. Nope, you did not like that one bit. Did you have the time to mentally unpack that right now though? Also nope. Did you even have time?

Well, you could guess the answer to that.

The Crest Demon continued to roar and thrash against the frazzled and disorganized troops, throwing off the rest of it’s mask. They didn’t know what the hell was going on, and neither did you. Against all self preservation instinct, you were running towards the fray because  _ shit, _ at this point it seemed like His Highness was the only person capable of doing any real damage, and you had his weapon in your hands. You don’t think you could have pinned down the exact moment when you had started panicking, but it was probably close to when the beast settled enough to look at the unconscious prince. You didn’t know that those monsters could even look angry, but as it’s beady gaze settled onto him you knew it was mad  _ because that was the bitch that smashed its face. _ This was also the moment you broke into a full on sprint.

You hadn’t quite realized what you had done until you were staring into the gullet of the monster, unable to close it’s jaw, as you had Areadbhar jabbed in the roof of its mouth. The action was blurry in your memory, despite its freshness. You had snapped off a Fortify to try and assist the troops, get them back on their feet, Dimitri included, but when you had watched it bear down on him, it’s gaping maw about to chomp down, you had lunged forward, distracting yourself from being of further assistance to the masses. You had to protect him.

You were so screwed though. You weren’t very proficient with lances, and this thing was likely a thousand times stronger than you. The reason you weren’t dead yet was because the monster was just as surprised as you were. You used the momentary distraction to fire off a Heal at The Prince. “Dimitri..!” You yelled, “Please, get up!”

You heard him grunt, but you were too occupied to look at him. “... (Y/N)..?”

“Help..!” You could not hide your fear as the beast attempted to close its mouth on you - on your head, only to roar in pain as it pushed Areadbhar further into it. Your only saving grace was that it seemed too stunned to thrash it’s head and toss you around like a ragdoll.

Fate would have something worse occur to you, it seemed. As you struggled to hold your ground against the monster, the crest stone within Areadbhar began to glow a sickly crimson. Something dark oozed from the light. A viscus, sticky, black substance swept down from the spearhead, and onto your hand. You weren’t much of a screamer. Hell, when the Prince found you all those weeks back, when those bandits skewered you, you didn’t even offer much more than a whimper. But as that shadow crept up your arm, you screeched in agony. You had never felt anything quite like it. The closest thing you could think of would be touching a hot pan or kettle. It burned. But instead of pulling away, it spread further and further up your arm, almost glueing you to the spear, unable to unclench it in your pain. And you were still the only person holding Demonic Beast in place.

Dimitri knew what he was looking at, and he knew he fucking hated it. He had seen it before, years and years ago, when Miklan Gautier attempted to wield the Lance of Ruin with no crest. “No, no, no, no..!” He scrambled off the ground, despite his ringing ears. Not you. He couldn’t let that happen to you. Though he tilted, and he stumbled, he got to you quickly. He couldn’t lose you. Certainly not like this. He yanked your body away from the beast, throwing you two backwards onto the ground, taking Areadbher with you. The awful shadowy tendrils, which had reached your neck at this point, receded the second he put his hand on the lance, the worthy crest bearer found. It relieved him enough to give you an order, “Let go of it.”

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything but babble in pain. The monster reared back, drowning out your cries with its roaring. An archer in the distance had fired into one of it’s plastic looking eyes - probably Ashe. Ingrid had swept down from the sky, and driven a lance through the other, blinding the beast. Good on them, it was looking for you. It was trying to find you by sound.

The Prince clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to quiet you quickly. “Let go of the lance, (Y/N).” He pried your fingers off of it, and did his best not to grunt in surprise when you went completely limp in his arms. Well, at least he didn’t have to silence you now. He had to keep himself quiet and still. You two were dangerously close to one of it’s claws, which was probing the ground for you. 

Slowly and carefully, he did the best he could to move you away quietly. Or at least you think he was. You weren’t unconscious. You were awake. Wide awake. But everything was dark. Why was it so dark? He was moving back though, keeping you close. You heard the beast roaring in agony, followed by the clanging of heavy armor. The Men of Duscur had charged in to lend their assistance. Why couldn’t you see it?

“It’s a farce, all of it...” The Prince growled.

“Dima...” You croacked. Why did everything hurt? You understood your arm hurting, but everything else? You felt him adjust you so that you were sitting upright.

Good, you were awake. “Can you stand?” He asked you. He had a lot to do. He had to get the troops back in order, captured enemy leaders to dispatch, and Dedue... He needed to speak with Dedue, who was looking a good deal older than the spectre that had been trailing after him all this time. He recognized that you were in pain, but that was all the better reason to get you out of here, out of his way and to a medic.

“I can’t... I can’t see...” You whimpered. You could feel how painfully heavy your eyelids were. You knew damn well that you were blinking. But there was nothing. No adjustment in light. No figures moving around you. Nothing. Darkness. You would give anything to see something. Even if it was that cold stare down at you, with that awful dark circle under his eye. “I can’t see anything...” You rasped.

Gently, as he always ways with you, he tilted your face towards him. Your pupils weren’t reacting to light, they looked glazed over. Your eyes weren’t landing on anything. Your irises were not there normal shade, but an unpleasant reddish hue.  _ What is this? _ Your arm, your neck. The veins on them were extremely visible, colored a sickly dark grey. Your breathing was strained, and it was giving him more anxiety than he knew how to process. He picked you up and turned you over to Manuela and the other medics and healers on site so he could take care of all he needed to. Thank the Goddess that Dedue was alright. But when he returned to see how you were Mercedes looked genuinely angry. Not that he had the capacity to care about the feelings of others, but it was still surprising to witness. Apparently your condition had exponentially decreased in his absence, and ‘how dare you leave her.’ Just hearing that made his stomach knot up. 

The general consensus between the medics and crest scholars was, given that it was an injury rooted and halted in the crest needed to wield Areadbhar, having the bearer in contact with the victim would ease the symptoms. They told him to carry you back to the monastery, and he did not argue. He cradled you in his cloak on the quiet ride with him. You usually trailed after him after a fight, chatting with him idly, even though he would never respond - you said it was to prevent troops from fearing their own leader. He had thought it was ridiculous. The dead agreed. They found you annoying, distracting. But now, he couldn’t help but frown. The medics had knocked you out to get you to stop screaming. He didn’t like that, you being in so much pain that forcing you into a coma was a favorable alternative. And he didn’t like the silence that surrounded him without you, though you were in his arms.

He stayed with you for the first few hours, almost terrified to leave your side. But as it was becoming more and more apparent that you were relatively stable - the dead would not tolerate him wasting his time by the side of a useless wench. You could not fight now. You could not heal. You weren’t even good for a quick shag at the moment. Useless, useless, useless. Perhaps he should just kill you, they suggested. He stood, and left you abruptly. They had told him something like that before, and he almost went through with it.  _ Not again. Never again.  _

Your dark, dreamless sleep quickly shifted into your recurring nightmare.

_ You killed a man. You hadn’t meant to. You were just trying to protect the prince. You couldn’t lose him again, you just couldn’t. So a rapier was plunged through an Imperials chest. Your weapon broke, but you held your broken half close, anxiously. You were a murderer. _

_ As if the first part of this dream wasn’t painful enough, dear Dimitri turned on you. He hated those who hurt the weak, he hated monsters, he hated murderers. You supposed you were at least somewhat classifiable as the last one, which is why he attacked you. He kicked you into the wall. Same old, same old. This nightmare was pure torment, but you were starting to get used to it. At the very least you found it predictable. Or so you thought... _

_ He grabbed you by the throat, taunting you, condemning you as a killer, holding a lance to your chest. He was supposed to drive it through you. It would always be quick. And then you’d wake up. He didn’t though. He didn’t stab you. You didn’t snap awake. You heard the lance clatter to the ground, then you felt a second hand on your neck. _

_ That was new, and just as unpleasant as one would imagine. He was choking you, not just threatening it. He glared at you with that cold, blue eye, “Murderer...” _

_ You hated the way he stared at you - accusing, disgusted - you squeezed your eyes shut just to make it stop. Too much unpredictable shit in this dream. Wake up, wake up... _

_ He didn’t like that. “Look at me...” He growled. You did not yield. Even as his hands gripped tighter and tighter, you kept them closed. What did it matter if you could not breath? You would wake up eventually.  _

_ It hurt so much though, he was crushing your windpipe. You felt his icy glare regardless. That hurt too. It was only a dream - otherwise your neck would have been snapped by now. You’d seen him do it before for real. No air in, no air out. What a way to draw out the pain... _

_ He was so angry. “Look at me!” He shouted. “You damned beast, look a-” _

_ You didn’t make the conscious decision to, but the broken blade in your hand thrust forward. He grunted with pain and dropped you. Your eyes opened as your arm, the arm you held Areadbhar with burned again. With a scream you searched for the cause. There was none - the Heroes Relic was nowhere to be seen, only it’s user but... That wasn’t the right Dimitri. _

_ Doubled over and wheezing before you was not shaggy haired, unkempt, angry renegade. It was a young, boyish looking Prince. Your broken weapon wedged in his chest, the officers academy uniform too thin to stop the blade. “... (Y/N)..?” the young man called out to you, terribly confused, “... Why did you..?” _

_ You didn’t have an answer to offer him. You had missed that face... That cute, princely face, and you couldn’t even focus on it, nor what you had just done to him. Your arm - damn it all, even in your sleep it was agonizing. _

**_“Oh, does that hurt?”_** _A voice hissed from the darkness._ ** _“Hm. You lack the blood of those who massacred us...”_**

_ Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean... You couldn’t unpack all that - you couldn’t do much of anything with the way your arm burned, watching The Prince suffer. _

**_“Very well, I will deem you innocent enough, child.”_ ** _ In the dark, creeping up the stairs you saw what looked like the claw of a wyvern, but larger, and... more like a hand.  _ **_“If you want this to end, then go fetch Blaiddyd’s spawn, or you will die.”_ **

You woke up in Manuela’s infirmary, writhing in pain, and suffering under a fever. You were still in complete darkness, and you were straight up not having a good time.

People were so nice to you in your present state. Lord Fraldarius reassured you that your research could wait till you were recovered, easing your anxiety. Annie and Mercie would bring you sweets and try to use magic to ease the pain. They even made you your favorite pastry. You didn’t have the heart to tell them that everything tasted like soot. Felix, your dear grouchy, brotherly figure, checked in on you first thing in the morning every day, making sure the monks were doing their best with you, not-so-vaguely threatening them if it appeared otherwise. Sylvain and Ingrid would come up to eat lunch with you, terrified that you would get lonely otherwise. Shout out to Sylvain especially. You really hoped you weren’t making him think about what happened to his brother, given how narrowly you avoided the same fate... Byleth would come and try to host tea, but it was a bit difficult to stomach. Ashe would pick out books and would come read to you. He only ever picked stories with happy endings, trying so hard to cheer you up. Much like the pastry girls, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your ears were ringing too much for you to understand him well. Dedue would bring you flowers from the greenhouse. He would tell you where they were from, and would let you smell them. It seemed to be one of the only senses that hadn’t been ripped away from you. It was wonderful. You wished you could see them though. 

You felt awful about it, but some days you were more delirious than others, and you would beg them to get Dimitri. You would sob and weep in pain, strange greyish tears leaking from your eyes, crying for The Prince, and they would be forced to try and calm you down, and gently explain that he couldn't be there because The Professor had sent him to do this, or because he was off doing that. And you would cry some more, wondering why they were lying to you, and why the man you cared for so deeply was avoiding you when he was the only thing you really wanted. You knew he was staring at that damn dirt pile, or he was polishing weapons. You had spent enough time with him where you had his schedule memorized due to how much overlapped with yours. “Please go get him, please...” Somehow that was the less upsetting of your pleas. One morning, you had asked Felix to kill you. You couldn’t even say that you hadn’t meant it. You did. The agony... death was a favorable alternative. 

If there was one thing you did not mean to do, it was frighten the young lordling the way you did. _ ‘If you want this to end, then go fetch Blaiddyd’s spawn, or you will die.’ _ That was what that voice said to you. And no matter how much you cried for him, the descendant of Blaiddyd never ever appeared. Your sickened mind decided to go find him yourself. Anything to make it stop. Anything.

So, you clawed your way out of bed. The second your bare feet touched the cold floor, you realized how completely fucked you were. You couldn’t see anything. The only thing you knew for certain was that you were in Manuela’s Infirmary. You didn’t know where you were in that room. You didn’t know which way you were facing. You didn’t even know what time it was. You didn’t know anything. That alone made you so frustrated your eyes had begun to water, never mind the pain. On shaking legs, you ran your hand along the wall. You had bumped into the other bed, and you tried to stifle the groan of soreness you got from how it jostled you. At the least, you had discovered that you had been staying in the bed closer to the window. Shout out to Manuela for setting her favorite medic girl up. It was nice, but it didn’t change the fact that you were beyond nauseous and dizzy. But that shit wasn’t changing the other fact that you wanted to find Dimitri. You pressed onwards, fumbling through the room blindly. You bumped into the table, stubbed your toe on a chair, and managed to walk head first into the door frame. You were a fan of slapstick, who isn’t? This would have been comical if it wasn’t so sad.

That door frame had left your skull pounding. You had managed to cross the threshold, but after that your legs had given out beneath you, sending you sprawling on the floor. You had tried to catch yourself, causing your arm to light up with that awful burning sensation. The worst part was that the pain had flared up to your neck. It was under your skin, roasting you from the inside. You had never experienced something like this. It was in your veins. 

E v e r y w h e r e .

You sucked in shaking breaths from the ground. The ground was nice and cold. It didn’t offset the burn in your bloodstream, but it was a different enough sensation where you could force yourself to focus on it, instead of the agony. You wanted to lay there for a while. Just a while. Getting out in the hallway had tired you. Breathing carefully. Nice and cold. Nice and cold. You felt something dripping down your face, and at first you thought walking into the door had given you a nosebleed, but as your breath began to hitch awkwardly you realized you had started to sob. You didn’t have the strength to wipe your tears away. It occurred to you that you might have been dying. That voice did say if you didn’t find someone of the Blaiddyd’s lineage you would die. You also realized you might have been going completely insane, trusting a mysterious voice in a nightmare. It was true though. You knew in your gut that it was true. Whatever this was, it was killing you. You could feel it. It just made you cry harder. This was a wretched way to go...

You were laying on the floor weeping until Felix found you at first light. He had come to check on you, as per usual. You didn’t initially hear him yelling your name over the tinnitus ‘eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee’-ing in your skull. It was when you felt him grab you that you came out of your stupor.

“Felix..?” You sniffled. “I think I fucked up...”

He sighed, “You irresponsible fool...” He seemed to think you were referring to falling in the hallway.

“No, no...” You shook your head as he brought you back into the infirmary. “I really... It’s killing me...”

Felix Hugo Fraldarius would not necessarily say that he was particularly empathetic. He was not very good with comforting others either, but he wasn’t immune to emotion. You sounded terrified. He didn’t want to tell you to ‘calm down,’ because that would be condescending, and dismissive, and probably wasn’t what you needed to hear. “Try to relax, you just aren’t feeling well.”

“Felix. I think I’m dying...” Your raspy voice got grave as you sat back in bed. It had been getting harder to breathe each day. “I don’t want to die like this.”

He didn’t like the way that your unscathed hand absentmindedly brushed against the grey, thornlike discoloration along your jugular. He had really hoped his eyes were playing tricks on him, because it looked like it had crept closer to your face since he had last seen you. “You aren’t-”

“If I told you to kill me, would you?” You wiped at your useless eyes some more, unable to see how much you had shocked the man, “I don’t know how much longer I can-”

“Shut up..!” Felix snapped, “Stop talking like that, don’t ask anyone for that kind of thing!” He never thought that someone’s words could make him sick - but he felt his stomach launch to his throat.

You paused for a minute, realizing what you had said to him. “I’m sorry.” You started to shake, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it just hurts... it hurts...”

“Alright... Just, try to take it easy. I’m not going to let you die.” Felix was smart. Really smart. Much sharper than people gave him credit for. For all his anti-social tendencies, he was a pretty good group tactician. He had also pinned Jeritza as Flayn’s kidnapper before Manuela went AWOL from her own suspicion, and he knew Dimitri was bound to snap well before anyone else had begun to suspect a thing. The man was able to put two and two together. He asked himself, when did you start to decline so rapidly? When that stupid sociopath left you alone. Your sickness was caused by not having a crest, and using a sacred weapon - being near the crest bearer eased your symptoms. Hadn’t the higher ups ruled that already? No wonder you had been crying for the prince... “I’ll go find The Boar for you, okay? Will that calm you down?”

“I think so..? I don’t... I don’t know.”

“I don’t want to hear anything else about you dying after I get him up here, understood?”

You tentatively agreed. You weren’t sure how much this would change though...

Felix went off to go track down The Prince. Fuck it all, he really didn’t want to. People often mistakenly thought that the lordling hated His Highness. That wasn’t entirely true. Instead he loathed Dimitri. They had once been close, like brothers. Just looking at him now, thinking about that sweet kid that might as well have died in Duscur with his real brother... It made him angry. What happened to his friend? Who the hell was this beast masquerading as him? It made his stomach turn. It made him angry.

He found him staring at the damn rubble pile. Predictable. It begged the question if the Prince ever slept. It was barely sunrise, and yet he was there, spaced out, mumbling to people who weren’t there. “I thought I’d find you here.” Felix did his best not to growl off the bat. He’d get an A for effort.

The Boar looked over his shoulder, at the very least acknowledging the other man’s presence. He quickly looked away, lest the dead take too much interest. Dimitri didn’t like being near Felix, especially with the specter of Glenn standing next to him. It was like seeing double, and it was exceptionally unnerving. That, and Felix saw right through him. Every word out of his mouth, no matter how much he tried to believe it, and affirm what he was doing, the Fraldarius Heir was there to stand against him. Answer his demands, and he’d leave faster. “What do you want?”

“I told (Y/N) I would come get you. So, go see her. Now.” The lordling was doing his best not to grind his teeth, not to snap. He shouldn’t have had to come all this way. Neither of them wanted to be speaking to the other - The Boar shouldn’t have left your side in the first place.

_ “He sounds upset.” _ Glenn snorted.  _ “But, don’t bother with the girl. You need to focus.” _ Gronder was awaiting. Vengeance on the horizon.

Dimitri was well aware. This seemed like a conversation that was going to be about a pleasant as the sensation of itching teeth. How was he to explain that he was avoiding a sick friend because the voices of the damned were imploring him to kill you? Good question, he didn’t know. “Not now.”

Felix actually needed a second to process that curt reply. Then he got mad, “You damn selfish boar...” He spat, “She’s been asking to see you for days! She’s getting worse, and you won’t even-”

The Prince cut in, not wanting to have a shouting match in the cathedral. Not with the dead watching, not with Glenn howling with laughter at his younger brother’s rage. “She is in that state because of me. If I hadn’t been so careless she would have nev-”

“Will you just shut up, you monster!” He could always just kill the damn boar, but that probably would have created more problems than solutions. It was frustrating. You were getting worse. The more he ruminated on it, the more he realized you were right. You were dying.  _ Fuck. _ You were actually dying... Felix took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. “Dimitri... I’m begging you, go see her... I can’t stand hearing her cry anymore.” It was an awful sound. It made him feel sick. “She asked me to put her out of her misery. The least you could do is check on her.”

“She... what?” He couldn’t have heard that correctly. Felix, begging? And you? You couldn’t die... He couldn’t allow that, he was already losing his mind to prevent that... It was quiet. In the cathedral, and in his head, for once.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, you bastard. What ever Areadbhar did is getting worse. You could fix this whole mess, but I suppose you want her blood on your hands!” Before Felix could do anything he regretted, or face the consequences of what he just said, he turned away storming out of the room, “If I don’t see you in ten minutes, I’m going to kill you!”

Felix didn’t stop until he got back to the infirmary, where Mercedes and Annette were trying to convince you to have some pastries that you couldn’t stomach. “Is he..?” You asked, recognizing the angry stomping footsteps.

He hesitated - he didn’t feel comfortable lying. “He’ll be by later.” Felix needed to calm down. The other two women could see how frustrated he looked. He asked Annie to sing for everyone. That usually relaxed him. Hell, it might have given you some much needed entertainment too. Thank the Goddess for that girl, and her adorable, catchy songs...

For the first time in a long, long time, Dimitri felt afraid. This was not a short term panic, or worry like it was at the bridge. This was fear. It was odd that such anxiety was accompanied by a cute little melody about cakes. It was less odd that Felix saw him in the doorway, and that the soft smile on his face he had when he looked at Annette fell away. “ _ Get in here!” _ He mouthed.

Mercedes had followed the lordling's scowl to the door, “Oh! Dimitri!” She gasped.

Oh damn it all. Now that his presence was confirmed to everyone, he was obligated at this point to go in. He approached quietly, wordlessly, taking a seat at a chair brought to your bedside. You had so many visitors, every seat in the room was near you.

“Dimitri?” You perked up quite a bit. You reached your good arm out to where you thought he was, feeling a cold gauntlet carefully take your hand. The ringing in your ears that had been troubling you all morning suddenly ceased.

He could hardly fathom how the others had kept so calm looking at you. Your physical state was horrific, corpse-like in some ways. Through the gauntlet, you felt like a block of ice. Your skin looked like it had been dusted over with ashes, cut apart into fragments by the black bramble path your discolored veins were making. Your hair had streaks of grey through it, a sign of the physical strain you were under. Your eyes were still reddish as well. This was disturbing to witness. He wanted to apologize to you, for not coming sooner, but he was not a person capable of saying ‘sorry,’ He settled on a quiet, “How are you feeling?” 

“I’ve been better,” You quipped. Still, you were pleasantly surprised by the disappearance of some of your lesser ailments. You weren’t too aware of it, but you managed to sit yourself up, and you reached your bad arm over, to clasp the prince’s hand in yours.

Those in the room with you did their best not to loudly express shock as the blackened veins on your hand began to dissipate back to a normal, hardly visible blue. Felix cleared his throat and stood. “I’m going to go talk to The Professor,” He looked over his shoulder, staring daggers at The Prince, “Don’t you dare leave her side, Boar.”

Orders were orders. It wasn’t just vague threats from Felix, and frustrated stares and frowns from the other Kingdom Troops. The Professor made it quite clear Dimitri was to remain with you, much to his annoyance. He was going to, after what Felix had told him, and now that he had seen your condition - it just irritated him that he had to be bossed around. He had a lot of other things to do! Like... Stare at rocks... Fine then, he had no excuses. His only real reasoning was the rage of the dead, but even they could not justify ignoring this. Gronder was set in stone, your survival was not.

The rest of the Blue Lions still kept coming to visit you. Rodrigue would stop by once in a while, occasionally suppressing a grin when he saw how carefully The Prince held onto you. Annette and Mercedes still kept up with their pastry crusade, this time including a few treats for His Highness, who refused to touch them until the women left the room. Felix kept growling at people he didn’t think were doing good enough with you, especially Dimitri. On one of their visits, Sylvain and Ingrid ventured to ask him if he wanted to spar, expecting a gruff dismissal. Instead, not wanting you to stir from an otherwise peaceful sleep, he softly said ‘perhaps another time,’ completely missing the moderate confusion from the pair. Ashe and Byleth came by for “Story time and tea,” the childishness of which was so disgustingly saccharine, Dimitri swore he could taste it in the chamomile; yes, he joined in at your insistence, lest you get upset. At least you were happy about all of it, now that your ears weren’t ringing, and things were slowly tasting less like you had licked a hearthstone. Dedue was his favorite of all the visitors. Stalwart, quiet, and to the point. The Prince was so relieved that he really was there. One less accusing voice in the masses. He still brought you flowers, which still made you light up.

“Dedue?” Dimitri called him during another one of your naps.

“Yes, Your Highness,”

“Have you seen the Gladiolus in the greenhouse?” The way his retainer addressed him still grated on his ears. He missed the days when people only called him by name, not by titles he didn’t deserve. But that was neither here, nor there. “(Y/N) has been tending to it for weeks.”

“I have. It is doing well.” Dedue replied, “Should I bring some up for her tomorrow?”

“I think she would like that,” He had a well founded feeling. You had scattered the sword lilies everywhere when it was just the two of you, including his room. You were oddly attached to it, even though it was just another thing that could have killed you from your somewhat careless behavior. “... Thank you, Dedue.”

None of it stopped most of the departed from telling The Prince to off you, despite the fact that you were actually getting better in his presence. It always elicited a pained grunt from him, as it was accompanied by a sharp stinging in his skull.

“Are you alright?” You stirred from a fever induced rest. 

“I’m fine...” He replied flatly. You should have been worrying more about yourself, he thought. Your arm only ever looked better when he was holding your hand, and your temperature just wasn’t going down.

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

It would be ironic to say you could see right through him. He didn’t sleep much to begin with, but with you, he felt compelled to snap awake, check on your arm, make sure you were still breathing. Snoozing in a stiff wooden chair wasn’t helping him either, but he wasn’t going to admit that. He had no room to complain, given that he had switched out of armor and into plain clothes. It was more comfortable. No excuses. No excuses. And no words for you.

“You’re really dumb sometimes...” You shifted over in the bed slightly, then patted the space beside you. “Come lay down.”

He scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous.” He was foolish? Says the non-combatant who attempted to duke it out with a literal demon. Some days he wasn’t sure you were afraid of anything.

“We already share a bed.” You gave a tug on his arm with a noticeable fraction of your strength. “Let’s take a nap.” You didn’t have the energy to whine, but you were visibly pouting.

Ugh, it was like denying a starving puppy table scraps. Fine, the dead were staying out of it for now, their point being made by a sharp migraine. He sat himself up in the bed, his back to the headboard. He managed not to show any emotion as you nestled your head into his lap. He kept it together as he brushed your hair out of your face. The shadowy veins hadn’t crept that far up yet, and he’d rather it stay that way. He’d keep his eye on it for certain. 

Comfy as you were, you rather innocently did not want him to feel left out. You sat up and instead rested your head on his chest. Perfect. He was so toasty, and your arm pain was finally easing thanks to continued contact. 

It was adorable, not that he cared. 


	2. A Duel for the Lady's Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your old man didn't say 'no,' to you marrying the prince, but he's oddly insistent that something in particular occur before he considers the proposal legitimate. He has to beat you in a fencing bout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this one is taking place shortly after Gratuitous, back in the “canon” timeline. Cool? Cool.

So, nine times out of ten, your father was pretty chill dude, you know? He let you study as you pleased, pursue whichever career you wished, and generally speaking, he was very understanding on how fucked the situation with your suitors was. These stuffy dickbags weren’t taking ‘no,’ from you, or your father without things getting convoluted. Given his sympathy, you were under the impression that when you wrote to him and told him that you had found someone you loved, that proposed to you, and was  **Fucking. Royalty.** That he was going to be relieved, he was going to give you his blessings, and he could laugh in the suitors face on your behalf.

No. That was not how it happened.

The old man wrote back to you, telling you firstly, under no circumstances were you going to marry Dimitri until they met. That one was fair, you supposed - marriage would be tough with a rift between the two. Good thing, for his sake, you technically had not yet eloped or wedded the prince. Secondly, and much less reasonably, he insisted that the fencing qualification still be held in place. And thirdly, he was currently busting it up to the monastery despite there being a war going on so he could ensure that both of these things happened - all of your suitors in tow.

Now you, a medic, in the midst of a war, while prepping to go retake your country’s capital city, did not, I repeat, did not have the time, nor the patience for this absolute fucking nonesense. Sadly, your father was likely already on route, meaning you couldn’t hit the brakes on this debacle before it would start. Your only option was to go inform your intended fiance of the impending shitstorm. You found him in the Knight’s Hall with his ever dutiful retainer, the two pouring over plans and maps of Fhirdiad. Home sweet home, soon enough... “Dimitri, do you have a minute?”

“(Y/N),” The serious furrow of his brow fell away as he saw you, a small smile gracing his face, “Of course. Please, excuse me for a moment, Dedue.” Sweet and gentlemanly once more, he offered you his arm, escorting you out of the room. He would always have time for you. It was nice to have him back... Dedue let you two head off with a slight bow. You wondered if the prince had told him about the proposal. Aside from wearing the ring and writing the old man, you were keeping it to yourself.

“I’ve just received my father’s response.” You held up the parchment with your freehand. “The good news is, he didn’t say ‘no,’”

“And the bad news?”

“Well, he’s coming to the monastery now...” How would you explain that a fucking tournament had been set up for your hand? There was a swarm of fuckbois on their way to duke it out for you - so fuckboi-like, they put Sylvain and Lorenz to shame.

“Ah, I wouldn’t consider that bad. If anything, I look forward to meeting him.” Oh this sweet ray of sunshine, precious courtly man. He didn’t get it. He didn’t understand the persistence of ‘ _ The Nice Guy,’ _

“That isn’t the problem,” Honestly, you were pretty sure that your father would like Dimitri, especially since he wasn’t feral at the moment. Respectful, honorable, and very sweet towards you - yeah, the old man would be cool about it. Plus, he had been backing The Resistance this entire time. He was decidedly Team Blaiddyd. “The other suitors are following him here.”

“Are they hounding him after you accepted another proposal?” The two of you took your seat at your favorite spot in the hedge garden, the good old bench where Dimitri gave you your parrying dagger.

You shook your head. “My father still wants to have those ridiculous fencing matches, and he’s decided to host them here.” You scrunched the letter up in mild frustration, “According to him, your proposal is void unless you beat me in a bout. And you aren’t my only opponent!”

“That is troublesome,” The Prince sighed, “Did he say why?”

You spun your hands about, trying to dig up the words to explain your father’s nonsense. It originally seemed like something he had done to try and ward the unwanted solicitors away - hell, he even told you to stay in hiding to see if they would give up! “Something about ‘fairness’ he said. It’s beyond me, truly...” That man’s mind was an enigma.

“And he is already en route...”

“So, I can’t convince him to call it off.” Your frown got deeper and deeper as your conversation continued. The trouble with having to fence these people was...

“My Beloved, are you certain you’re well enough for all this?” The Prince took your hands within his. He knew. “Your injuries aside, you haven’t touched a rapier or a sabre since...”

“Right...” Since you had struck down the imperial knight... The thought was enough for you not to blush at Dimitri’s favorite way to call you. The mental trauma of that not included, you were out of practice. “I’ll... I will start practicing again. We’ll be using epees instead of rapiers, and blunted sabres. I have nothing to...”

“You have nothing to fear...” He pulled you into his warm embrace, hearing the stilted attempt at conviction in your voice. You happily rested your head in the furs over his white armor. He looked so much more alive in it. “But do not do anything if you believe it will upset you.”

“I won’t.”

“Perhaps there is some good in this. I’m sure it will be an amusing reprieve from war preparations.”

You let your fiance get back to work, and you began warily waiting for your father to appear. You were going to be happy to see him, of course. You were not going to be happy to see the cabal of idiots following him. You spent your days hiding behind Manuela, Ingrid, Dorothea - women who would rain hell down upon any fuckboi who showed up to the party too early - which was something you were genuinely worried about, given that none of them seemed to understand ‘no,’ 

If you weren’t with them, you were tearing up training dummies. You didn’t die when you laid your hand upon a new rapier. You didn’t have any unpleasant flashbacks. It was a blade, nothing more. It would not hurt anyone without you ever going out of your way to do so. And you would never. You sheathed it at your waist alongside your main gauche. A full dueling set!

You made sure you were with Dimitri when your old man finally arrived. Being on the arm of a prince, who was twice the size of some of these suitors, was going to hopefully scare some of them off. It was also to show your father how  _ gosh darn cute _ you two were together.

“Father!” You cheered as the Gatekeeper stopped him at the entrance hall. You released your man in the last ten feet so you could sprint, and bear hug your father.

He grunted as you slammed into him, much older than he used to be. He shook it off quickly, and made a solid attempt at twirling you around. “There’s my little doctor!” He cooed at you for a little while, talked about how much you’d grown - big dad energy stuff. He settled down eventually, but not before he growled at one of the suitors for trying to move past him to get a look at you.

You straightened yourself up and cleared your throat. “Father, may I present, His Royal Highness, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.” You gestured to the man behind you.

“Sir (L/N), it is a pleasure to meet you,” The Prince came to your side, and gave a courtly bow to your father. “I cannot express nearly enough gratitude for your financial assistance in the war effort.”

“Your Highness, I could not live with myself if I had not supported the true king,” Your father returned a much more grandiose bow to Dimitri, many of the men mimicking him. The old man got vertical again, scanning The Prince up and down. “If it weren’t for the eye patch, I would say you were a carbon copy of your father...” He glanced over his shoulders, and found the suitors still practically groveling. He rolled his eyes, then got serious to address your companion. “I met with the late king many times as a representative of the merchants guild. It is wonderful to finally meet you, however.”

You didn’t want him to scrutinize your fiance too much so early on, and in front of so many random men. “Father, you must be tired. Please, come eat supper.”

His eyes lit up. “Absolutely, get me away from these idiots.” He shot a look at Dimitri, “Pardon my informality, I’ve been traveling with these cads for days. Your Highness, will you be joining us?”  
Aw fuck, he really was going to grill The Prince straight away. “Yes, by (Y/N)’s request.” AW FUCK, he didn’t know to fear fatherly questioning! You hooked back onto his arm as the suitors attempted to trail after you.

Dimitri, sensing your discomfort, brought you to a table and allowed you to take the edge seat, and grabbed the other chair next to it, cutting off any unwanted company from joining you. Your father sat facing you. The staff brought you tea, but the old man asked for wine. It was too early in the day to drink.

Must have been a hell of a trip... 

“Nice rings.” Your father eyed them warily, but not as concerned, nor bitter as he did the Prince. “Your Highness, did you give those to my daughter?”

He nodded. “The prayer ring was intended to ease the wounds she sustained when she first arrived at the monastery. The other one...” He paused, then looked to you, your pinky brushing against his gauntlet. He let a server bring you three your dinner, waiting for them to leave, lest a gossip hear him. “I gave that to her upon my proposal for her hand in marriage.”

“That’s sweet. My little angel seems quite smitten with you.” Your father nodded back, slowly, calculating. 

“Father..!” Your face was suddenly a furious red. You had nearly spat out your tea.

“I hope you’re a decent enough fencer, Prince Dimitri. You seem like an honorable enough man.”

_ If he’s honorable then just let me fucking marry him, old man! _ You swallowed your anger, taking the diplomatic route instead. You finally asked him, “Father why are you making me do this?”

“Kiddo, these morons have been banging down our front door for months!” His glare narrowed, scanning the room for the men that had filed in - unable to take the hint. “I just wanna watch my sweet little girl knock them down a peg.”

So it was his own petty revenge then. You felt a migraine coming on. Real talk, you hated these suitors just as much, if not more than your father did. But this was superfluous at best, and a genuinely distracting to winning a fucking war if anything less. Also - it shouldn’t have had anything to do with Dimitri! “Why does His Highness have to-“

“That’s so they don’t complain that I set them up. I do business with their families, I can’t afford to look like I’m picking favorites, or like I’m purposefully humiliating them.”

Realistically, you didn’t need your father’s permission to marry - it would have been nice though! “Father I am trying to marry the literal king-“

“Let your old man have some fun here.”

“Stop interrupting me!” You snapped.

Your father looked surprised. “Oh, I’m sorry sweet pea.”

Dimitri felt... so uncomfortable. He had never argued with his parents for anything before they died. He had seldom raised his voice against his associates until he had his breakdown. Was this just something people did? He took a sip of the tea that he could not taste.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, terribly aware of the unease radiating from your fiance. “Father, I will do ask you ask, but you need to understand the absurdity of your request, and what an inconvenience this is.”

“Again, (Y/N), I am sorry. I’m not doing this to upset you.”

Oh thank The Goddess, reconciliation. He let out a well hidden, relieved huff. You caught it though. You could read him well. You curled your pinky around his - subtle - it continued to ease him.

It was arranged, somehow, that Felix was to be the umpire and referee of your ensuing bouts. Sure, why not? The man knew bladesmanship better than just about anyone alive or dead. The rules were simple - the lady, you, picked which blade type was used in the bout, first person to five touches was declared the winner, a set only stopped when a competitor, or the ref called ‘halt,’ Much of the monastery, friends, acquaintances, troops, civilians - all gathered in the training grounds to see the tournament for your hand. No pressure. They were just there for some entertainment.

Your father was nagging you for electing to wear ankle bloomers instead of a skirt in addition to your fencing jacket. “I refuse to explain to you how dangerous it is to fence in such loose clothing, father. You should know better!” You scolded your old man for kicking up a fuss over your ‘unlady-like appearance.’

“Honey, think of how much it would crush their egos!” His eyes were alight with mischief.

“Tempting, but no.” You stepped up to the strip, deciding on sabre for your first opponent. He was a stout merchant’s son. Much like an upside-down triangle, he was very wide at the top, and narrowed considerably after the waist. He had clearly skipped leg-day a few too many times. You never skip leg day... Sabre’s target area was waist up - this was an easy pick. 

“Hold, hold, good maid,” He cried out as you raised your blade to salute him and Felix. He turned to face your father, “Sir (L/N), I refuse to do anything that could injure the fair lady!”

“Hm,” Your father’s head tilted from side to side, considering whatever attempted chivalry this man was trying to play. “Great, you aren’t going to respect her as an equal. Congrats, you’ve been disqualified!” 

_ Thanks dad. _ One less ‘nice guy,’ to worry about.

Felix came to your side, and raised your offhand, “The first round goes to (Y/N)!” The suitor, getting over being completely gobsmacked by your father’s dismissal, attempted to grab the Fraldarius referee in protest. Felix had grabbed the man by the neck, slamming him down with a hiss of, “You haven’t earned my pity,” It put the other suitors in their place. No one else would reasonably try to cause trouble physically. Even if they did, your other comrades in arms were watching, and were more than willing to join in on the beatdown.

Your next two bouts were more legitimate, both sabre, due to the similar build of these merchant’s children. You can’t skip leg day like that, truly... You swept one of them 5-0, but the other one was 5-2. He had gotten you on two seperate wrist touch counter-attacks. It was a frustrating concession, but it proved to you that you needed to stay calm, and that Felix was being a fair ref.

The first rapier bout, or rather epee for safety reasons, was also halted by the opponent. He seemed upset that you had drawn your parrying dagger to your off hand.

“That’s a very nice knife...” Your father murmured as Felix looked to your opponent.

“Oh, thank you,” Dimitri smiled. He was waiting for his turn by your old man’s side, “I had it made for her.” He was a bit too pleased with himself to notice your father glaring at him with a degree of concern.

“What’s the problem?” Felix barked. He barely wanted to be here to begin with - what did this putz want?

“Why does she get two swords?!” The man carelessly wagged the epee near your face, though you had yet to pull your fencing mask down.

“You’re joking, right?” The room watched whatever light that was left in Felix’s eyes die. He wasn’t the most pious man, but he might have been praying for mercy from this one-man shitshow. There was so much wrong with whatever just came out of the suitors mouth. Firstly, you weren’t holding a sword, you were holding a training weapon, which you do not refer to as a ‘sword.’ Secondly, a main gauche, your off hand weapon was a dagger, not a sword. Felix smacked the weapon away from your face, before this idiot could gouge your eye out. “You better say that you’re joking.” A local man lost the last bit of additional hope he did not know he still had. 

The suitor was not joking.

“Have you never dueled for rapier before?” You asked on your stunned umpire’s behalf. You waved your knife in the air, “You know what this, don’t you? This is a parrying dagger.”

“Well, why didn’t I get one!?”

You blinked a few times, “Did you bring your own? There are a few things you can use as an off hand-”

Felix scoffed. “I don’t have time for you to lecture this idiot on nonsense that he should already know. En guard!”

“(Y/N)! I want three toe-touches this bout!” Your father hollered.

_ You got it, old man. _ You came to guard on command, mask on.

“Ready! Fence!” You played this man like a damn-fiddle - maybe even like an entire orchestra pit. He was not ready on the first touch, you came off the line with a steady advance, lunged, and poked his left arm. “Halt, touch right!” The call was made in your favor, cut and dry, and so you reset. The next touch, you fleched off the line, charging him and landing your strike at his neck. Good thing his mask was on... “Halt, fleche lands to my right!” The third touch, he tried to beat you off the line, but he clearly did not know how to flunge, as you had just done. With a simple retreat, you disengaged, dropping your blade and driving it into his foot. He had also swung his epee at you like an arming blade, rather than the thrusting weapon it was, rendering his ‘wack’ to your arm null. “Halt! Attack from the left does not land, counter to foot lands, on my right!” This may have been the most a good portion of the spectators ever heard Felix speaking. That was toe-touch one of three. It had some of the audience snickering. The fourth touch may have been some of your finest memery in all your days. Off the line, you correctly predicted that he would charge forward again, and so as you watched his front foot rise to sprint, instead of advance, you exploded into your lunge, your back knee hovering a centimeter off the ground, driving the tip of your blade into the tip of his shoe. “Halt, touch right to the foot.” Two of three. Your opponent was getting irate. Your grip shifted on the dagger, your arm still ached from his off target hit, and you had a feeling he was going to come at you swinging hard in his anger. This was going to be absolutely glorious. “Ready, fence!” You let him charge you, only making a single cautious retreat, you watched his blade once more wind up and swing, rather than poke. You guarded with the main gauche, holding back a strike that would bruise, even if it failed to get a point. You were perhaps two feet from each other. You strong armed his epee out of the way, letting everyone in the room clearly see how you dropped the tip of your weapon down, driving it into the top of his shoe. That was three toe-touches. “Halt, parry-riposte, on my right.” You swept him 5-0. “Masks off, shake hands.”

The room was howling with laughter, your father positively beaming at you. You successfully ended this man’s fencing career before it could even begin. You reached out to shake hands with your opponent, because you were extremely polite, but he had thrown down his mask and stormed off. You shrugged.

You had a few more bouts to fence, but a couple of them were for some laughs. Annette had jokingly decided to challenge you to a sabre bout, and she actually beat you 4-5. She had been humming her little ‘Steaks and Cakes,’ song the entire time, which Felix continued to hum as she shook your hand with a giggle.

“House Dominic wouldn’t be a bad candidate either...” Your father said within ear shot. Ah, it seems Annie officially qualified as someone who was allowed to propose to you. 

For a moment, it seemed like Sylvain was going to try his hand, but before he even stood up, Ingrid had shot him a glare that was way sharper than the epees you were using. The fear of the Goddess in him, he did not move another inch.

Finally, The Prince stood.

“What are you doing, Boar?” Felix grumbled to him as he stepped up to grab a mask and blade. A strange hush fell over the room, and you felt your cheeks getting red. You couldn’t wait to put your mask down over your face.

“I’ve already proposed, Felix. This is simply something I’m doing by her father’s request.” Dimitri did his best to avoid his friend’s widened eyes, though he was clearly amused, albeit bashful.

The room was then filled with whispers, ‘His Highness proposed to her?’ ‘She’s just a commoner...’ ‘Why are they blushing so much..?’ ‘This is just another joke like Lady Dominic, right?’

This was going to be a hell of a fight, given that he was the first person to show you how to fence with a rapier! You saluted him with your blade. “I’m not going to throw this bout, Dimitri. I’m going to make you earn your win!”

“I expect no less, My Beloved. Best of luck to you.” He smiled as the Blue Lions all gave their own hollers and gasps of shock. The cat was out of the bag - the room knew you were engaged. 

Bastard was trying to psych you out. You pulled your mask down over your face, and began your planning. His strength and size was his greatest advantage, for certain. He would prefer direct, powerful lunges, so redirective parries would be a fair bet against him.

“En guard! Ready... Fence!” Felix had gotten over his surprise quite quickly. Quick enough to get your match started. You rushed off the line at Dimitri, goading him into trying to use his reach over you. You faked your final step forward, then gave two retreats, narrowly dodging his predictive lunge. He was a bit quicker than you were expecting, but you managed your counter attack, landing a thrust to his wrist before he fully regained his footing. “Halt! First attack fails, the counter lands on my right!”

You reset. The lure wasn’t going to work twice in a row. The Prince was a great deal more perceptive to his mistakes than your previous opponents.

“Ready, fence!” You didn’t go into the next touch with a decided plan, leading to you falling for a feint which landed on your shoulder. “Halt, attack from the left.” 

You two stayed neck and neck 3-3. You were actually barely keeping pace with him - the man was so damn fast! And sadly, you were not well rested from your previous bouts. They had all happened in incredibly quick succession... You managed one parry riposte against him, “Halt! Parry, riposte on my right!”

The next touch you rushed to try your lure again, only for Dimitri to get a toe-touch on you. “Halt, touch left!” You wanted a time out to laugh off your mistake, but it was 4-4. What was the point? This was almost finished. You were true to your word, you wouldn’t throw this last point so easily.

“En guard... Ready, fence!” You came off the line quickly, but as controlled as you were able. His blade was going to come for a higher strike, based on where his guard was, making it conceivable to go for a thrust to his arm. He seemed to predict your action, however.

The Training Ground was filled with a metallic _ *thwang* _ as The Prince’s parry met your attack with enough force to snap your epee. You paused, staring down at the broken blade in your hand. “Umm...”

You also felt a small tap to your shoulder. “Halt, parry riposte on my left.” Felix said, announcing the extremely gentle poke Dimitri gave you. 

You lift your mask, “Excuse me? Felix, my blade broke!”

“You didn’t say to stop the round, and I didn’t call halt.” He shrugged, “The Boar tagged you, fair and square.”

That was it then - Dimitri won, 4-5. You couldn’t help but begin to snicker, eventually bursting into a full on roar of laughter. You were already short on breath, getting wheezy, but you had the widest of smiles on your face. 

“I... did not realize I could still do that...” It had been some time since he had accidentally broken a weapon, rather than purposefully. The Prince had removed his fencing mask, then came to take you by the hand. “We can redo the last touch if you’d like.”

You shook your head, petering off to a chuckle, “I yield.” You shot a look at your father. “Are you happy now?”

Your father let out a heavy sigh. This had been the funniest shit he’d ever seen, but it was dawning on him more than ever that you were an adult now. By his, and your agreement, you were officially engaged. “Your Highness... My daughter accepts your proposal for her hand in marriage.”

Your grip tightened on Dimitri’s hand. You did not care about the gasps the room was filled with. You jumped into his arms with a cry of joy. He twirled you through the air in his own fit of happiness. 

_ Congratulations, Your Majesty. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, okay! I've got two other requests in the work, another Gratuitous epilogue thing, and another technically Gratuitous pre-time skip thing. If you lovely folks want something specific, just ask, I have a good time with this kind of thing. :D  
> I hope this one was enjoyable!


	3. Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was about damn time the people got some more good news. A common lady was to ascend the throne as queen consort. A joyous occasion for all, but you in particular, your majesty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short compared to my usual work - but I'm happy with it. Hope you like it!

From his proposal onward, you were presented very carefully to the public, and very often. You stood by him at all war council meetings, all speeches, all public appearances. You were with him, arm in arm, when he greeted the people upon reclaiming Fhirdiad. It was to make your eventual union much more ‘believable’ to people. As honest as your relationship with Dimitri was, it wasn’t ridiculous to say that some people, er, a lot of people were going to be upset by the heir to the entire continent marrying some random woman from a family with no courtly link. The less rumors flying around about the future queen seducing the king, rather than being of some sort of value in status, or council, the better.

People warmed up to you quite quickly, however. You were known to the people as the woman who discovered the identity of the Crimson Fever. You were a healer, regularly being compared to Saint Cethleann - it was a good foil to Dimitri’s new title, ‘The Savior King,’ There was a bunch of bards throughout the land singing about how he won your hand in a fencing duel, and blah, blah, chivalrous man, blah... the common folk were absolutely loving that whole debacle. Ashe said someone should write a book about you two. People also really warmed up to you when just about every noble household who had sent a child to the Officer’s Academy vouched for you. It’s good to have friends in high places, isn’t it?

The war came to an end, bitter sweet. Dimitri had killed the only family he had left, but in doing so he had stopped one of the bloodiest conflicts in Fodlan’s history. The Professor became the new Archbishop, The Prince became The King. Things felt... better than they had for the past five years, but melancholy hung over many people’s heads. Another occasion of great joy was needed to finally get the world on the right path - something to prove that the planet would keep turning in spite of the losses suffered.

It came to be that your wedding was the solution.

You were well off, for a common woman. That was not a secret. You had never wanted for much growing up, but you could not pin down a time in your life where you had felt like an actual princess... Until you were being made up to walk down the aisle. Handmaids tugged at your hair, so much you doubted it would ever knot itself again. They buffed and painted your nails so furiously, you thought they would combust. Also, the corset intended to go under your gown... Holy fuck, you thought they were trying to crush you.

“Are you excited?” Annette asked you, already dolled up.

“Yeah...” You wheezed out as you were laced in. “I’m nervous though...”

“There’s nothing to be worried about,  _ Your Majesty _ .” Claude joked from the corner. He was technically your maid of honor, because you swore to yourself that your wingman was getting a place in your wedding if it killed you. Your wingman of honor? You weren’t forcing him to wear a gown, though he didn’t seem opposed to the idea when it was initially discussed. Dimitri was cool with his participation, Claude was his friend too, after all. Regardless, Duke Riegan, or rather the newly crowned King of Almyra was facing the wall, Ingrid standing guard over him. He wasn’t Sylvain’s level of indecent, and he wasn’t likely to try to sneak a peek at a dear friend, but you could never be too sure with compulsive flirts. He probably wouldn’t try anything. His presence was extremely good for international relations for both parties.

Mercedes clasped her hands together, happy as can be. “Claude’s is right. There’s nothing to fret about, today is a happy day!”

“Right... right...” You answered. You appreciated the sentiment, but you could not help but be anxious. Everyone was ready except for you. Ingrid’s armour was adorned with flowers. Though she was a bridesmaid, she was a knight first and foremost. Claude was decked out in a fantastic blend of golden Almyran silk and robes. Mercedes gown was decorated by simple, but elegant strands of lace and silver. Annette had her hair in a courtly bun, making her look more ladylike than you had ever seen her. But you? The maids were still weaving flowers into the crown of your veil, and you were still being laced into the corset, nevermind actually getting the dress on! And no one had started on the makeup yet. This was taking too long - were you going to be late to your own wedding? Were you going to be late to your own coronation?! You were screaming internally, because you couldn’t expand your lungs enough to scream externally.

“My lady,” The maid lacing your corset began, “It is time for the gown.”

Oh thank Sothis... You loved your wedding gown. It was designed in-part by Ignatz, who would be painting you and Dimitri’s portraits sometime after the wedding. The bodice was a sweetheart neckline, with a lace pattern of the crest of Blaiddyd wrapping around your waist, over your shoulders, a snow white, fur shawl was wrapped. There was a massive ball gown skirt. Aside from it’s natural ruffles, it was almost... austere, but the fabric was so fine it glowed, despite its simplicity. The train of your dress was pinned, level with your hips, around thirty, perhaps forty feet in length, flowers woven around the edges, directly into the hem of the fabric.

Your veil was designed by Hilda. She always loved making accessories... Again, it’s simplicity was stunning. The sheer fabric covering your face was attached to a silver tiara, glittering beneath the blooms of blueish crystal sword lilies. It may have been the most beautiful thing you had seen in your life. This was what finally made you feel like royalty.

You heard Annette sniffling, just from the sight of you, once the makeup was finished. “(Y/N), you- you look so pretty!”

You looked away from her as soon as you realized what was going on, “Annie, please don’t cry - if I see someone crying, I’ll start crying, and if my mascara runs I’m gonna lose it..!” It took them forty minutes to do this shit, you couldn’t fuck it up yet.

A handmaid spoke up, “Worry not, my lady, it is waterproof.”

You sighed with relief, “Carry on Annie!”

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. “It’s time.” Felix said, barging in. Thank fuck everyone was done changing or he would have been killed on sight.

You took a deep breath. Even if you weren’t ready to become the queen, you had to act like you were. Your father brought you down the bridge to the cathedral, repaired in time for your special day. “You aren’t going to start sobbing, right?” You asked him quietly.

“I’m not making any promises, kiddo.”  _ Ah, one less person to make eye contact with, got it. _ This must have been absolutely wild for the old man, all things considered. Most merchant’s daughters were pressured into trying to marry into nobility of some kind, but he never did that to you. And somehow, without him arranging much of anything other than a job for you, you had married into royalty. He linked arms with you, and every knight, noble, and commoner in the crowd parted for you and your entourage to walk through. Dimitri, the Archbishop, Dedue - the best man. The reconciliation with the people of Duscur would begin with him. They had gone through several minutes before you. 

The other Blue Lion boys - the groomsmen had followed, and then your bridesmaids after that. But not before Ingrid, the Stalwart Knight, knelt to you and presented her lance. You reaffirmed her guardianship to the royal family, making a large, but honest show of how she did not need to kneel before you. She departed with the other women after bowing deeply to you. She would have stories written about her for her chivalry for centuries to come, you were certain.

Claude, the Wingman of Honor gave you a fist bump. “Nothing to be worried about, (Y/N).” He reaffirmed to you softly. 

Mari was to follow after him - the darling flower girl. Her reaction to you asking her to do this was adorable. _ “So you two are married!” She exclaimed. _

_ “Well, no. We’re _ _ getting _ _ married.” _

_ “What difference does it make?! I knew it!” _

_ “Do you want to be the flower girl, or not, Mari?” _

_ “Lady do you eve-” She cleared her throat to address you more formally, as her little friend had been nagging her to do, “Lady (Y/N)... Do you even need to ask?!” _

She had handed you a bouquet of Gladiolus, tended to by Dedue himself, and she went on her way. That just left you and your father to join everyone in the cathedral. With your head held high, you processed towards your dear one. The public marveled at your dignity and radiance. This was to be their Queen, and in demeanor, they could see why.

There he was at the end of the aisle, waiting for you. You hadn’t seen him too much due to wedding preparations. While you were getting fitted for gowns, making public appearances, and were being tutored in royal customs, he was getting retrained in basic table etiquette by Gustave. You occasionally crossed paths for these things. He would smile, beyond happy to see you, but his eyes would also scream ‘ **_help.’_ ** Because the knight, who had taught him since he was a child was... unorthodox... in his methods. You recalled a story of how he sent the young prince into the forest at midnight in the winter, or made him lug around barrels of rocks while wearing heavy armor, just to test the strength of his crest. Annette’s dad was _ usually _ a kind enough man - but that shit was insane. You could only imagine what weird way he was making your fiance re-learn his manners.

That did not matter now. You may not have known the entire courtly history of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, but you knew that you loved Dimitri. You were ready to marry him. 

All of your dear lions stood around the altar, and you joined them. Mari went to go stand by your father. You hadn’t told her yet, but your old man, decidedly an empty-nester, and not taking it well, wanted to adopt the scrappy little lady. He missed having someone to spoil, and Mari was someone you had seen directly in need of shelter.

You saw that Dimitri was tearing up. It was unbecoming in his formal military regalia. “Don’t cry...” Your voice broke anyway, you echoed Mercedes from earlier. “Today is a happy day.”

“These are happy tears, my beloved.” He quickly wiped under his eye before he pulled back the veil as you stood to face each other. “You look so beautiful, I cannot help but weep.”

If it wasn’t a wedding, Felix would have scoffed in disgust. He sighed instead, but Ingrid still elbowed him in the ribs.

You barely noticed. You stared up at the king with nothing but love in your heart. Byleth had begun to say some sort of rite from some book from the Church of Serios - you weren’t really paying attention. You were preoccupied taking in every detail of your dearest’s face. Without much thinking, you reached out and grabbed his hands, trying to hold him and your flowers at once. He was blushing at you!

You tuned back in when the archbishop addressed you by name, “(Y/N) of House (L/N), do you swear by the Goddess Sothis, that you will defend your Holy Kingdom, from now, until the hour of your death?”

“By the Goddess.” You kept your voice steady. That was a heavy statement, and unusually emotive for Byleth, but you could not waver with the world watching you. “I will protect my kingdom til my last breath.”

“King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, do you speak for, and trust the word of the lady?” The Archbishop asked.

“I vouch for her, on my honor, and my life.” He answered, giving your hands the slightest of squeezes. He wasn’t wearing gloves or gauntlets today...

Byleth turned his head back to you. “(Y/N) of House (L/N), do you accept King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd as your lawfully wedded husband, your union blessed by the Church of Seiros?”

With a nod of your head, you replied, “I do.”

“And do you, King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd,” The poor professor... this was all quite a mouthful, “accept Lady (Y/N) of House (L/N) as your lawfully wedded wife, but also as the Queen of the holy nation under your protection and guidance, blessed by the Church of Seiros?” The subtle inhale after his question told you that Byleth was going to start rewriting the wording of certain customs as soon as this was over.

“I do.” His voice was steady, but his tears continued to fall. Long, long ago, he told you he did not believe he had a future to give to any one, but if he did, he would like to give it to you. Was this fulfilling that wish? Was that why he wept? You would have wiped his, and your tears away, but you did not want to let go of his hands. You ran your thumb over his knuckles instead.

“Then by the authority of the church, I dub thee wed.” This was the part of normal weddings where the bride and groom got their smooch - alas, this was also your coronation, resulting in the extra fan fair. “Will the Man of Honor please remove the bride’s veil so that she may be crowned?”

Damn, you were really pulling for The Archbishop to officially say ‘Wingman of Honor,’ as opposed to ‘Man,’ or ‘Maid,’ Then again, this was an extremely public event, so it was probably for the best that it did not happen. You released your darling’s hands so that you could turn to face the King of Almyra. You bowed your head slightly so he could take the tiara away without messing up your hair, which those moderately aggressive handmaids took extensive time and care for.

“Oh wow, this thing is beautiful. Hilda did an amazing job...” Claude murmured to you, handling the veil with an almost surgical precision. “Remind me to commission her to make something for my mother...” You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to stay serious, but you could not suppress a slight smirk. He was right though. That tiara was fucking gorgeous. You were definitely going to hold onto it, because it was almost criminal how short your time wearing it was.

With that done with, your hairdo still in tact, you turned back to Dimitri, who now held a silver circlet crown as delicately as he possibly could. He clutched it by his fingertips alone, so that he did not crush it with his anxious strength. It was adorned with perfectly spaced diamonds and sapphires. It was elegant and stately, compared to the natural beauty of the sword lily tiara. An equal in loveliness.

Byleth flipped a few pages in whatever book he was reading from. Somewhere in the crowd, Seteth was having a fucking conniption. Yeah, The Archbishop definitely wanted to condense this for the next time. “King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, you may now crown Lady (Y/N) of House (L/N), whom you have taken as your wife, thus making her queen of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, her reign and authority ensured and blessed by the Church of Seiros.”

He took a deep breath as he stepped towards you. __

_ ‘It’s okay,’ _ you gave him the slightest nod of encouragement, then tilted your head down again for the sake of your hair. Were you supposed to bow for this? Eh, you weren’t the type who would bow to anyone, nevermind your own husband. You felt the cold metal, carefully resting on your ears, and then ever so gently tilted up so it did not slip over your forehead. You glanced back up as he pulled away. “How’s it look?” You whispered.

“ _ You’re beautiful... _ ” He mouthed. You were referring to the crown, but you’d accept the compliment. All this time, and you still blushed at him like you had as a teenager.

“You may now kiss the bride.” Byleth announced loudly.

_ Oh fuck, already? Shit- okay! _ You became deaf to the rest of the world. You heard your own breathing, and your own heartbeat. Blind to the room, you only saw your sweet king. 

He always exercised delicacy towards you, restraint and caution beyond your understanding. His hand came to your cheek, thumb brushing away your tears as he leaned down to you. You closed the rest of the gap between you, clutching your bouquet with one hand, and and his shoulder with the other. With the kiss from your king, the tolling of the church bells, and the roaring cheers of the crowd, you had wed the love of your life, and ascended your throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okie dokie! As of right now, I've got one pre-time skip request, and another epilogue request in the works. What else do you rascals got for me? Dish it out, I can take it!
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading - I really do appreciate it ^_^


	4. Introvert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from dear reader, Kei. They have requested a fluff one-shot with an introverted, shy reader. I did my best to oblige! We’re going back before the timeskip to teaching assistant days~! Sorry I couldn’t come up with any good fight scenes and what not for this one, but I suppose tonally it makes sense to just keep it cute?

How to say it... You were not reclusive like Bernadetta was, bless her heart. And you were not nearly as diffident and avoidant as Marianne, the poor dear. No, you could be around other people without getting horrendously anxious as soon as you were noticed by them. You had to be around the students - you were a teaching assistant - it was unavoidable, but was not impacting you too negatively... You were still tired though. Being around people for too long did that to you. 

Let’s just say, plans with friends getting cancelled was a more joyous occasion to you than Saint Seiros Day. You were an introvert, and perhaps the slightest bit shy. It didn’t get in the way of you functioning from day to day, so long as you knew your limits, and so long as you were given plenty of time to yourself. One thing was getting in your way, however... One sweet, terribly adorable, well meaning, young prince was inadvertently killing you on the inside.

Day after day, he’d call upon you, “(Y/N), would you like to come eat with us?” or, “Would you like to join the class at the market today?” and sometimes, “You’re quite familiar with this subject, (Y/N). Would you be willing to hold a review session before the exam?” And you would go without fail. You would go out and about no matter how much energy you lacked for social situations, because Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd did not understand that you could not bring yourself to decline an invitation from him.

A part of you knew he would not be offended in the slightest if you had said no, but it was a very, very, very small part. The majority of your psyche on the other hand could not possibly allow your shy self to think of the words on the spot that would allow you to politely excuse yourself - because _ ‘WHat IF thAT MaDE HIm HATE YoU?!?’ _ Some irrational insecurity deep within you cried out. It was fair though, you didn’t want to upset him, or the other students. They were your friend’s afterall - you liked these people, and they liked you back.

So you’d sit through dinner, and shopping trips, and occasional tutoring sessions, unable to look people you considered close enough to you in the eye. Your voice would break when they asked you any non-academic questions - because you weren’t ready for personal questions on the fly! You would stammer out an answer, and then you would have to repeat it because you were too quiet outside of lecture. And at the end of the day, you would go to sleep believing you and your knotted tongue had made a fool of yourself, and your threshold for continued group socialization got lower, and lower, and lower.

There was only one thing you did with another person that did not drain you mentally and emotionally. On occasion, His Highness would ask you to tea. It did not trigger a bashful, avoidant response from you initially, because you were framing it strictly in the professional sense. He was House Leader, you were the teaching assistant. It was probably going to be work related most of the time.

It was for the most part. You discussed the performance of other students, areas of improvement, and the like. Though sometimes you two would get off topic and you’d chat about home, and hobbies, and what books you had read recently. Sometimes you would both just sit there quietly sipping your tea, and doing paperwork... Alone, together. You loved it when that happened. It hardly tired you at all.

One day, Dimitri looked up from his parchment, trouble in his eyes. “(Y/N), I do not think I understand your personality very well...”

Avoiding direct eye contact, you looked over at your tea, which suddenly became the most fascinating thing you had ever seen. “What do you mean?” A conversation directly about you? It made your stomach turn.

“When you instruct in class, you speak loudly, clearly, and with apparent confidence. But outside of that...” He followed your gaze to the world’s most interesting teacup. “You avert your eyes when you talk with people, I can only barely hear you, and...” 

Panic rose in your chest. He didn’t even sound accusatory about any of this, but knowing that your somewhat anti-social behavior was this noticeable was upsetting to say the least. In an effort to relieve tension, you wrung your hands together, cracking your knuckles.

“Ah, you’re doing it now...”

“Doing what?” You froze. Was anxious fidgeting really that obvious? Were there people who really watched you that carefully? You didn’t want people looking at you, not at all!

“Nevermind, (Y/N). I apologize if anything I’ve said insults you...” He must have seen the dread on your face. He stretched a gentle hand across the table, resting his gauntlet on your fingers. “Regardless, if something is upsetting you, please, do not hesitate to reach out to me for assistance.”

After that conversation, you thought he understood. He had noticed some telltale signs of shyness, some nervous ticks. By extension, you figured he would have put two and two together and realized you were an introverted person and being out constantly was making it difficult to function.

But he didn’t. He seemed bent on having you socialize as often as possible. You were invited to every meal, every sparring match, every theatre outing - and still, when you looked at his handsome face the anxiety in you screamed over any words you could have used to excuse yourself. You began to stammer during lecture, unable to make eye contact with people in the one situation you were usually able to.

You weren’t ready to be a hermit, but some time to yourself was necessary. And so, you did the only thing you could think of. You simply did not get out of bed one day, and when people came looking for you, you feigned illness.

Suddenly, everything Bernie ever did made perfect sense to you. This shit was awesome! No one was trying to talk to you, you caught up on some reading, took a nap, dusted the shelves - you felt so on top of your life! This level of isolation felt nothing short of magical. No one was looking at you. No one was asking things that weren’t there business. Beautiful...

The trade off for this false break was that when you returned, that darling boy, not wanting a sweet and pleasant lady like you to feel left out, resumed making sure you were hardly ever left by yourself. And your friends, enjoying your presence and company far too much, did not object.

You wanted to fucking disintegrate. You didn’t mind one on one interactions, so long as no one stared too hard - but it was always group outings. It was noisy, and more than one person demanded your attention at once, and the questions hardly ever stopped, and neither did the migraines it was giving you, and now you were starting to lose sleep because the headache, and the lack of sleep was making you look sickly, and people were asking you intrusive questions to figure out what was wrong, and they probably thought you were weird - of course they thought you were weird! A weird zombie girl who didn’t know how to make eye contact, and didn’t know how to formulate a sentence and -  **UGH** !

You did your fake sick routine a few more times to give yourself some days to recharge your social capacity meter, but you knew people would start questioning why you kept taking time off, yet weren’t showing too many symptoms of any illness outside of just looking exhausted constantly. Lots of people at the monastery were exhausted, you weren’t special. You had to get back to work.

Wait, that was perfect..! Work!

You began to carry around stacks of papers and books that you didn’t even necessarily need to do or read - but you pretended to, or did them anyway, because if you looked busy, people were less inclined speak to you to begin with, nevermind try to get you to do things. As soon as whatever classroom you were doing your actual job in was released, you would bolt out of the room and set up shop somewhere to “fake” productivity.

Much like socializing, this was taking up a lot of unnecessary energy on your part. To the point where it was a bit of a question among the students, ‘Who’s Garreg Mach’s favorite narcoleptic, (F/N) (L/N), or Linhardt von Hevring?’ You were falling asleep constantly, alone, or in company - the latter especially was a nightmare, because of how embarrassing it was. 

Seteth, who you respected greatly but found terribly drab from time to time, was doing a lecture one day, and you fell asleep while taking notes for absent students. Apparently you had slumped into Dimitri, who you were sitting next to, and the poor prince was so confused that he just let you keep snoozing. When class was over, His Highness gently shook you awake, did his best to bite back a soft grin as you blinked up at him adorably and sleepily, and greeted you with a quiet, “Good morning.” You couldn’t even look in his general direction for a solid week or two without having more aesthetics in common with a tomato than you did with other people.

It was unprofessional, and it was concerning. Linhardt was a layabout. You weren’t - why were you passing out left and right? You couldn’t help it! Group outings drained you terribly, but so did all of this unnecessary extra work - this was not the solution you were looking for.

So you couldn’t lock yourself away, and you couldn’t drown yourself in work, nor could you carry on with this nonstop socialization! You decided for the time being you were just going to have to be more tactful with your socially burnt out naps. You’d still disappear before people could speak with you between lectures, and you’d go find somewhere to snooze for a short time - because at the very least, you didn’t have to talk to anyone if you were unconscious. You would still carry around some books, and you would skim through them so you looked productive, but it would soon bore you to the point where you would clock out.

Your most common spot was one of the pillars upholding the gazebo. The breeze and sun was gentle there, the grass was nice and plush, and the ivy creeping up the structure cushioned the pillar sufficiently where it was a comfortable enough place to sit and read, and to nap upright against.

On a cooler day, you stirred ever so slightly from your slumber as something warm was draped over you. You dismissed it, and stayed asleep. As the monastery bells tolled high above some time later, you awoke fully with a groan, curling further into the royal blue cape you held to you.

_ Wait, shit! _

You snapped back to reality, fully awake, cradling Prince Dimitri’s shoulder cape to you. You cautiously looked to your side, and found the young man dozing against your pillar with you. You didn’t move. You didn’t say anything. His arms were crossed in his sleep. Perhaps he had been sitting there like that, and fell asleep by mistake. But why was he there? And why did you have his cape?!

No one else was around, and the one person who was just so happened to be unconscious, yet you could already feel your face heating up. He looked so cute. You had never seen him so relaxed and unguarded. He was friendly, for certain, but you sensed the awareness behind that mask, the caution he conducted himself with. But, he was at peace here - the only thing being disturbed was his golden hair by the gentle wind.

You buried your head in your hands - you were the one who was always upset about people staring at you - it wasn’t fair to do that to him. 

“Oh good,” You lifted your head slightly as he let out a barely audible yawn. “You’re awake...”

“Your Highness...” You squeaked.

“I haven’t just fallen asleep like that for quite some time, I suppose I see why you’ve been doing that as of late.” He opened and closed his fingers a few times, trying to get the blood flowing through his hands again. “I found that very relaxing.”

Your jaw clenched and unclenched itself a few times as well, some stammers of unwarranted apologies and explanations on the tip of your tongue, but no sound escaped you. Solidly awake, The Prince stood off the ground and extended a hand down to you. Not knowing what else to do, and being at a loss for words, you took it, and allowed him to lift you to your feet.

“Now that you’re up, would you be interested in joining me for a cup of tea?” He asked you. You managed a nod. He was pleased with your answer, “Wonderful.” 

You two did not have to walk too far to the little garden area where students met to chat, it was only a few hedge blocks over, but His Highness had yet to release your hand, or take back his cape. You could feel far too many confused and prying eyes on you, as you walked hand in hand with the Kingdom’s Heir. You were panicking far too much to let go of him, and shove the cloth back into his possession. Like hell you were going to bring his attention to it yourself!

He only let go of your hand to pull out a seat for you, being the perfect gentleman and all. He did not sit across from you however, instead he brought his chair around the table to sit closer to you. A dining hall staffer brought you a tea tray, and a warm kettle. 

It smelled like chamomile, which would hopefully relax you, as you sat shoulder to shoulder with The Prince.

He was out the gate with the questions ripping away any hope of this conversation being at all comfortable for you, “Is everything alright, (Y/N)? I hardly see you awake, and when I do, you look rather upset.” He slightly broke his well mannered, upright posture, to lean down and be eye-level with you, “Is there something troubling you?”

Ugh, he was doing that to try and read a reaction from you...Well fuck dude, it was now or never then! “Your Highness, do you know what an ‘introvert’ is?”

He titled his head, “I’m not much for psychology, but it is a person who tires more easily from social over-stimulation, correct?”

You nodded. For your sake, you were really hoping you weren’t going to have to spell this all out for him, if he understood that you were exhausted, and knew the definition.

He paused for a moment, his lips twitched into a frown and his eyes narrowed into a squint, only to widen suddenly as the realization hit him. “Oh, you’re..”

“Quite introverted, yes, Your Highness.” Ah, look at that tea cup - it might be more interesting than the last one! You didn’t think that was possible, but here you were! “And... And I have trouble telling people ‘no,’ because I don’t want them to get upset...”

“(Y/N), I am terribly sorry,” His brow furrowed and his frown deepened. He reached out and took your hand within his ones again, “I did not realize the situation I have been putting you in.”

“Your Highness, I do not mind going out with everyone once in a while. But I can’t do that constantly, I just... can’t.” You were so relieved he didn’t ask why you never said anything. Even when you had managed to say rejecting people made you nervous, people tended to gloss over it, and just blame you more for the situation. He didn’t though - he understood this time, thank the Goddess. “I need time to myself, or I will keep spiraling into that negative behavior.”

“Would you like me to leave you be then?” He’d hate to make you more uncomfortable, now that he was fully aware of what was going on.

You shook your head. “I don’t mind your company at all, Your Highness. You don’t make me tired. I like spending time with you, Dimitri.” You smiled up at him. “And I like being around our friends, just not every day.”

You lost him at ‘Dimitri,’ Not too many people referred to him by his name, certainly not anyone he found as cute as you. There was no ulterior motive behind your words, he could see it in your eyes. You liked to be around him. He felt his heartbeat speed up a little. That was... new. “Understood. Perhaps you and I should do this more often regardless.”

You let out a nervous giggle, trying to ignore the fact that he more or less just asked you on repeated dates. That was another thing to get anxious about at a later time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well Kei, I hope I've done you justice!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. I've got three more things in the works at the moment, and if you've got anything else, I'm willing to add it to my list ^_^ Catch you later~!


	5. Little Ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For MaMinette they wants lil tykes, I’ll give em’ lil tykes~! I too live for Dimitri being a good, happy dad. Please, intsys, let him be happy I will give anything-

For months, and months, and months following your wedding courtly folk, maids, guards, commoners - people asked you when you were going to produce the heir.  _ ‘When were you going to have a baby? _ ’ Then they’d ask incredibly personal questions on your fertility and you had to sit there and be pleasant, and not clock them in the jaw and scream ‘ _ I’ll have a kid when I fucking feel like it!’ _ Because Queens, if they wanted to be loved by their public, were not allowed to beat the hell out of people with their bare hands when they got annoyed about near strangers asking creepy shit. It was none of their fucking business, but they sure wanted it to be.

It actually took you and your dear husband a bit of time to become intimate once more. Now that he had made enough peace within his mind and heart to be more civil again, he was not as bold and demanding with his physical wants as he had been when you two were alone at the monastery. You two got around to it again, eventually. 

Nine months later, your beloved first son was born. Childbirth was its own circle of hell. You, someone who was well known to hardly whimper when injured, had screamed loud enough to rouse the goddess from heaven above. You and the baby were alive though, so that was pretty good.

You thought Dimitri was going to be the one afraid to hold the baby, knowing his strength. But as he cradled the little bundle in his arms, gently, ever so gently, you realized you were the one who was worried. He had always been so good with children, even at his lowest point. He rocked the wailing infant back and forth, calming it and quieting it as doctors and nurses worked to ease your pain.

You on the other hand? In that moment following the baby being born, you could hardly breath, and you were expected to hold it steady. No, no. You didn’t want to touch the baby. You didn’t think you could do it. You could hardly see anything through your tears. If you were going to cradle your child, you wanted to be able to see them.

Your husband was busy being a big old softie, “Would you like to see your mama, little one..?” Dimitri cooed and soothed the infant, which was finally settling down.

You shook your head, “I can’t... I can’t...” The King came to your side as the Doctors deemed you functional. You understood that you had survived childbirth, which was not the tragic case for far too many people, but you would hardly say that you were okay! He attempted to give you the little bundle, and you could hardly raise a hand against it. Your skin was ashen, coated in sweat, and yet you were cold. It was a miracle you made it through.

Your husband had a solution. He ever so carefully wrapped a hand under you, propping you up against his chest as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He curled his arms around yours, supporting you, and allowing you to hold the baby yourself.

As Dimitri stared at you and your child, wrapped safely in his arms he felt a pang in his chest. This was what people meant when they spoke of family. What he was feeling was unconditional love. His entire world was held so closely to him. It was such a small and precious world. That sweet little baby, and you, so tired and fragile... He would kill for you. He would die for you. He would never let anything happen to either of you. Never. No matter what. “What a good boy, being nice and quiet for your mother...”

“Dima,” You sobbed, blinking away your tears, “He’s so... He’s so beautiful...” 

“What do you want to name him?” The King asked you softly.

You were not even remotely prepared to answer questions that required a modicum of thought. Unbelievably, you did not discuss any options beforehand. Shit- fuck, goddess damn it. Nobles repeated names a lot, right? “Why don’t we name him after your father?” Genius.

“Lambert..?” He queried to the air. You felt him smile. “Alright then, hello my little Lambert.”

He would grow to have his father’s lovely golden spun hair, and your eyes. You found out he bore the Crest of Blaiddyd because he broke your fucking finger. For quite some time, you had been doing a fantastic job hiding your exceptionally foul mouth. That changed in an instant.

You had some down time from all your governing duties, so you had gone to the nursery to go check on the baby. There were plenty of maids and nurses who gave him all the attention he could possibly need, but you wanted to go personally adore your little baby boy. Mother’s love and all that. You were leaning into his crib, playing with him as the maids updated you on how he was doing. You had tickled his cute little tummy, booped his precious nose and let him grab onto your finger with his tiny, tiny hand.

“So, he’s able to sit up on his own already?” You could not help but smile as he giggled up at you so sweetly. “Strong like your father, aren’t you, Lammy...” 

And just as cute. Alas, the incoming irony was not going to be lost on you. With another precious laugh, he squeezed down on your hand. One of the nearby maids heard the crack, looking over with confusion before you even started yelling.

“FUCK! FUCK! SON OF A- GAH, FUCK!” You reeled back from Lambert, who was giggling, stumbling away from the cradle, clutching your hand in pain.

“Your majesty?!” The flustered staff called after you, your distress and choice words startling them.

“He broke my finger! He broke my fucking finger!” You whipped your head back towards the baby. “Good Goddess he has a fucking crest...”  
Thankfully, Lambert’s first word didn’t wind up being ‘fuck,’ after that whole debacle. Dimitri’s reaction to the whole situation boiled down to, “Oh, I did that to one of my nursemaids as a baby!” You were so close to punching him for the goofy grin on his face, but you loved him too much to do that. You really wish he warned you beforehand, but in all fairness, you probably should have expected it given the strength of the Crest of Blaiddyd... well, then again, you didn’t know he even had a crest yet, or... hmph. At the least, there were enough magic users to heal your broken finger before the bruising even occurred.

Your second child came to you under... unique circumstances. You and Lambert, now five years old, had been chatting in one of your sitting rooms about what he and ‘Uncle Felix and Auntie Annie’ did during his visit to Fraldarius territory. You remained in Fhirdiad to govern. You kept the family scattered during visits to certain places, Duscur being one of them. Reconciliation and reparation for the Duscur people was on the horizon, thanks to the extensive work by the King, and his trusted vassal Dedue - but there were still too many rogue elements out there to risk everyone being in the same place at once. Still the letter came that Dimitri was well and on his way home, and so you sent for your little lion cub. Apparently Felix was already teaching your boy basic bladesmanship. That would have been concerning if it wasn’t normal for the way you were all raised in Faerghus...

“My Beloved,” His Majesty appeared, taking great strides across the room to sweep you up in his arm. “How I missed you...” Arm? Why was he holding you with one arm? He had been all about bear hugs these past few years. You felt him press something into your grasp as he turned to Lambert, who he pulled very close with both arms this time. “There’s my boy~!”

You looked down to what you were now cradling, finding a warm bundle of cloth and weight. Staring back at you was a small tan face, with the prettiest sunset golden eyes you had ever seen.

“Your Majesty,” Dedue stepped into the room and gave you a polite bow.

“Dedue,” You smiled to your old friend, though you looked back and forth between him and the baby in your arms. They had the same skin tone, but the similarities ended there. Still, you could deduce that this was a child of Duscur. “Um... Do you... Who’s..?”  _ Who’s fucking baby is this..? _

“Her name is Aria, Your Majesty.” Dedue stated matter of factly.

That wasn’t the question you were going to ask but, “Oh, that’s a lovely name...” You couldn’t help but rock her back and forth, much like you had to your son when he was this small. You were going to need to get used to the motion again anyway, given that you had another child on the way. “Where are her parents?”

“She is yours now, Your Majesty.” That was a really not good way to say she had been adopted into your family, Dedue.

“Dimitri...” You turned to him slowly, “... Did you kidnap this child..?”

“What- No!” He almost dropped Lambert in shock. Steadying himself and his son, he began. “Her last relative was a sickly elder. We were distributing alms and...”

_ An older woman had approached him while he heard the grievances of the public. He wanted to be a king that was closer to the people, and so when he was there, he made a habit of hearing directly from the common folk on what could improve their situation. _

_ The woman looked to be on death's door, beyond a medics help. She came to the Savior King, and begged him to find a safe home for her granddaughter, the rest of the family departed from this world from sickness. His heart welling with pity, he asked around his Duscur guard, men who had saved Dedue, and continued to serve with him, to see if anyone could. The King was troubled, they seemed reluctant at best, and not a single one of them seemed to be able to hold a baby correctly. And the poor infant wailed, uncomfortable, until Dimitri took her in his arms himself. _

_ You have to keep an upset child close to your chest, he tried to explain to them, so that the baby can hear your heart beating. The steadiness would relax any child. He had learned this when he had allowed Byleth to hold baby Lambert once. The Archbishop did not have a heartbeat, frightening the little prince beyond reason. _

_ When he looked down at Aria, and her shining eyes, now the picture of calmness, he felt that same thudding in his chest he had felt when he had looked at you and Lambert for the first time. He announced that he would happily shelter the child. The poor old woman smiled at him, and told him that she would be able to pass away in great peace. _

_ “What will Her Majesty say?” Dedue had asked as the women told a scribe some information on the girl. Her birthday, her home village, her parent’s names. _

_ And with perfect confidence, Dimitri had answered that you may see these eyes of this darling girl, and you would feel the same way. _

He was right. The quiet little lady in your arms had inspired quite a good deal of affection from you, and you hardly even knew how. “Lambert, come meet your little sister.” You told him. Your husband set him down and he toddled over. Dimitri smiled at you softly. He knew...

“So I’m gonna have two..?” Lammy asked you. His face lit up. He had been asking for weeks and weeks when he was going to get his little sibling, and now he was getting one early, “Can I hold her?”

“Be very careful, she’s fragile like mama, okay?” You very gently handed the bundle over, kneeling down incase you needed to take her back quickly. Lambert hadn’t broken anyone else’s fingers yet. He had figured out that most people were not nearly as durable as he and his father were, but he was still learning his strength.

“Hi Aria, I’m Lambert. I’m your big brother.” He didn’t really know how to cradle a baby, but he was making a concerted effort to mimic how he saw you hold her. “Mama, her eyes are so pretty...”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dimitri cover his mouth, hiding the broad smile on his face. He went over to Dedue, and he blinked away tears.

“Dimitri..?’ He gave his old friend, who he had finally regained the ability to address as such, a pat on the shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Dedue... I never thought I would ever get to be so happy. I am... I am so thankful that I have you all.” His family... His sweet, beloved family. He did not deserve it, he believed, but he would not lose it now, for any reason.

“Uncle Dedue, is father okay?”

“He is alright, Your Highness.” The vassal nudged the king, urging him to go see his children.

“Father, Aria is laughing,” Lambert cheered, “She likes me!”

Oh, this sweet mercy the Goddess had granted him. He would treasure it till his dying breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... So I named the girl after my favorite castlevania game. What do you think? Tooth-rottingly sweet enough?
> 
> We've currently got four things in the works, and as always, I'll take more, because I'm still on break, meaning I've got the time for this. Thank you for your continued support, and interest <3


	6. Overprotective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ssyickitten has requested an overprotective/jealous dimitri. I have elected a pre-time skip Dima, and I hope I have given you what you wanted. I find the trouble of writing protective/jealous characters is that it is very easy to toe a line to them being full on creepy/possessive - like that ain’t attractive, that’s spooky and toxic. My method of counteracting this with our dear prince who deserves better? Making him a fucking dork.

He didn’t get it. He just didn’t get it. You were hardly one for ever putting up with Sylvain’s advances, or the unwanted attention and flirtation of any other young man who approached you for such things. So he was truly baffled when you never appeared to outright dismiss Lorenz’s obvious attempts at flirting with you. If even he could notice, it was blatant. Why weren’t you telling him off? It... It irritated him, which was a difficult thing to do. Dimitri was considered quite level headed, and well mannered outside of battles, as far as anyone was concerned. To be dealing with this feeling... He didn’t quite know how to handle it on his own.

One day in the training grounds he tried to broach the subject with two of his oldest friends as tactfully as he possibly could. “I am worried about (Y/N).” He spoke up as they took a short break.

“What’s the problem?” Sylvain asked, “She seemed fine to me today.”

“And the day before that...” Felix growled. Oh good, he was going to participate in this conversation it seemed.

“Lorenz keeps bothering her, but she has not waved him off yet.” He could not help but cross his arms. “She’s clearly not interested in him.”

The Fraldarius lordling did his best not to look at the prince most of the time, otherwise a glare would get stuck on his face forever. But he had to turn to him to ask, “How would you know, Boar?” His question was full of disdain. Ah, there was the glare. As far as Dimitri was aware, it was ever present. “Did she tell you as much?”

The Prince frowned, “Well, no. But, I feel as though she looks uncomfortable around him.” 

The one in this group with the highest emotional intelligence on the monastery grounds cut in. “Are you sure you aren’t just projecting how you want her to feel onto your idealized version of her?” Sometimes Sylvain’s perception of one’s internal thoughts was far higher than anyone could possibly understand, not that he was going to let too many people be privy to that fact. He gave his old friend a comforting pat on the arm. “Try to take it easy, Your Highness. You’re just jealous, that’s all.”

Dimitri looked at him, completely stunned. “Jealous of what..?!” Jealous of that egotistical, air-headed, self-obsessed, conceited, purple-haired, boastful brat taking up such a lovely young lady’s time with his braggadocios ilk- AND where on earth did that just come from?! He cleared his throat. “I am not- Sylvain, listen- listen to me, I am not jealous of anyone.”

“Whatever you say...” The red-head looked back at him with a knowing smirk, amused as the normally neutral prince was red in the face, practically stammering. 

Dimitri bid his old friends adieu, a considerable amount of things to think about now in his mind.

“He’s an idiot.” Felix growled.

Sylvain just kept on smiling, all knowing in this scenario. “Yeah, but he’s our idiot.”

So Dimitri decided to not ask anyone for help, because it made him terribly embarrassed, got his rage flaring up - people didn’t need that. He didn’t need that at all. He did terrifying things when he got angry. Too many innocent people around for that. Felix knew about it, and hated him for it. No one else needed to see the reason why.

He decided to just keep an eye on you from a comfortable distance - you were his friend - he wasn’t jealous of anyone. He couldn’t have been jealous, because his reaction was rarely ever that visceral towards any other man being near you. He thought to ask you yourself if you felt uncomfortable at any point, but the opportunity did not present itself to him in a way that did not make him feel as though he was overstepping his boundaries. Regardless of his concern, you were your own person, capable of speaking for yourself.

A few days after his discussion with his old friends, Dimitri was sent to the market with you by The Professor. You two walked arm in arm, as you usually did, because, goodness, what were you both going to do if you lost each other? Truth is, he just liked to hold onto you. This likely would have been opportune, but you were busy focusing on what you were sent there to do, wanting to get back to the academy so you could grade some essays that Manuela was supposed to hand back the next day, but had forgotten to do herself. You told him you ought to split up to make things go faster. You had asked him to go grab some heavier things, knowing the Crest of Blaiddyd would make that easier for him. You were going to go to the merchants to get the seeds for the greenhouse that Byleth asked for. You were a hobbyist gardener, and understood what you were supposed to be looking for better than he did. You would meet back up at the pastry shop when you each got what you needed.

He couldn’t have been away from your side for longer than ten minutes, but when he made his way back to your meeting point, there was a crowd forming. You stood between a burly looking man and a young lady. You had your hands on your hips, a scathing glare on your face, your foot tapping impatiently. “For the last time, she told you to leave her alone,” You sounded quite irritated.

“And for the last time missy,” The man fired back in a mocking tone, “It’s none of your business!” There was a slight drawl in his voice, Dimitri noted, but it didn’t sound natural. The man may have been intoxicated, which was a bad sign, given it was only two o’clock in the afternoon. Day drinking, was he? Judging by the size of this crowd, this little dispute had been going for a few minutes at least, and no one had stepped in yet. “Now get out of my way, I was speakin’ with the lady.”

“Well, the lady wasn’t speaking with you!” The woman coward behind you as he stepped forward, but you stood your ground, scowling at the man. What an inconvenient day for you to leave your rapier at home.

Dimitri began pushing his way through the crowd as politely as he could to intervene. The vagrant was twice your size, you were without a weapon, and discouraged from using magic off campus. Bad situation for you. Unfortunately, he was toting a barrel of flour that was at least 200 pounds over his shoulder. It meant nothing to him, but Goddess forbid he hit a civilian with it. 

He saw your fingers twitch at your sides. All it would have taken was one spell to end this altercation before it even began, but lighting this vagrant up would have gotten you in more trouble than it was worth. “Get away from us!” You hissed, keeping the lady a safe distance back.

“Get out of my way!” The man yelled.

As the Prince finally got into a clear enough area to set the barrel down without crushing anyone, he heard a loud _smack_ , followed by a startled yelp from you. He saw you almost doubled over, holding your face, with the drunk lording over you. The man had hit you so hard, you were on the ground. And then he saw red.

He was going to kill the bastard.

He closed the gap quickly, taking him to the ground before the man even knew what was going on. His Highness had never heard that sound from you before - it was shrill, confused, pained. How dare he draw it out of you! The bastard was going to suffer. Dimitri took care not to grab the man by the throat, because he knew damn well it would have crushed his windpipe. He grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, which choked him well enough. He had to hurt him more, before he could grant such a swift end. He lacked the restraint not to throw a punch at the man, breaking his nose on the first strike. Being this strong was frustrating - how was he to make this disgusting welp suffer longer if killing him was so easy?

You lifted your head up in confused daze, blinking a few times as what had just happened dawned on you, “... Dimitri?” Your skull felt rattled.

The Prince froze. You called him by his name... The red was gone. You were watching him. He lowered his fist before he could strike the drifter again. He didn’t want to frighten you. He took a slow, deliberate deep breath, and got off the man. He looked at your reddened face, seeing your eyes glisten, “(Y/N), don’t cry...” He knelt like a dear knight to his lady, “Where did he get you?”

“I’m not crying, he hit my nose and now my eyes won’t stop watering...” You blinked a few more times, sniffling. “I don’t think it’s broken though... Can’t say the same for him.”

Dimitri did not dare look over his shoulder at what he did, lest he be reminded of what he still could do. He kept his eyes on you, carefully running a gloved hand over your cheek. It hadn’t bruised yet. If you found Mercedes and Manuela as soon as you got back, it wouldn’t bruise at all.

The two of you sent the grateful young woman on her way, before the ruffian could recover, and you two also skedaddled, because YIKES, hearing that the prince with super strength was about to destroy a man with his bare hands was not a rumor that needed to be passed around in the slightest. You laid low for a bit, giving Byleth what he’d asked for, and then departing before anyone could ask you questions.

Dimitri was still troubled, however, because he had still yet to ask you if a certain purple-headed noble was upsetting you in anyway, and he had yet to reaffirm to himself that seeing the other man hound after you so incessantly totally did not, at all, in anyway shape or form, make him the slightest bit jealous. Because that would be ridiculous! Because he wasn’t jealous! Because he didn’t even like-

Oh. Oh no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no... He really shouldn’t. He really, really, REALLY shouldn’t.

He wanted to forget that. All of that. He couldn’t do that right now, there were too many important things to focus on first before he could even possibly consider the thought of affection towards anyone. Even someone as sweet and cute as - UGH! He couldn’t forget. He couldn’t forget that warm feeling in his chest he got when you were together, nor could he forget the mindless rage he felt when anything happened to you. What was he left to do?

He was back to square one. He had feelings, and he did not know what to do to them.

He was not impulsive. Contrary to how Felix thought of him, nine times out of ten, he thought about things before he acted. But the next time he saw Lorenz pestering you in the courtyard, he felt his feet moving in your direction before he realized what he was doing.

Your arms were crossed, you were leaning away from him, your feet weren’t pointing towards him. By body language alone, you were not comfortable. You weren’t! This could not stand. “(Y/N)!” He called. He didn’t mean to be so loud.

“Your Highness? Is everything alright?” You turned to face him. You looked worried, but at least you were receptive towards him.

“I’m sorry Lorenz, there’s been a bit of a... scuffle. We need a healer. Could I please steal (Y/N) for a moment?” He took your hand, his heart racing. Had lying always been so easy? He had lied about being happy plenty of times, but that was for the sake of his image - he didn’t need people fretting over him. Directly lying to another person’s face, on the other hand, because he was jealous...

The young lordling looked surprised, “Oh dear, of course!”

Dimitri pulled you along before you even got a say in the matter. He didn’t mean to do that, but he was panicking. “Where are we going?” You asked him, struggling to keep pace with him. “Who’s hurt?”

He pulled you into the Knights Hall, before he stopped and sighed. “I lied.”

“What?”

“Nothing happened.” He let go of your hand, too ashamed of his selfishness to dare hold you. 

“Oh, I get it. You saw Lorenz was bothering me, and you wanted to get me out of it!” You couldn’t help but chuckle, “Thank you, that guy really can’t take a hint, I swear!”

Despite this being exactly what he wanted to be the case, Dimitri’s world was being shaken up internally. He should not have been awarded for lying to you. That just wasn’t right. You deserved better than that.

You were still going off, “He’s not a bad guy, he’s just oblivious. It doesn’t matter what I say, he just doesn’t get it. I’m going to have to discuss his behavior with the professors, the only reason I’ve been putting up with it is to corroborate the claims of some students.”

“Would you like me to escort you to them now?” Keep up that gentlemanly facade, don’t bother you with his incomprehensible emotions. Keep you on his arm, no one else’s... No, no that wasn’t right either. You didn’t belong to him. You didn’t belong to anyone! Thank the Goddess he understood how frightening he was sounding in his head.

“Oh, don’t worry, I can handle that one on my own.” You gave him a beaming smile, one that he treasured, but did not deserve, with how he was thinking. You looked like you were about to head off, but you stopped suddenly. “Oh! Before I forget, thank you for stepping in the other day. Who knows what that guy would have done to that poor girl otherwise!” You put a hand on His Highness’ shoulder for balance, standing on the tips of your toes, and giving him the most delicate of pecks on the cheek. “You’re a good man, Dimitri.”

There it was again. His name. Not a title. Just his name. You were both flushed, but you had turned away to get back to work. He just sat there for a moment, mouth slightly agape. He brought a hand to his cheek. It was warm.

He came to his senses enough to stumble to the training ground, back to the side of Felix and Sylvain. “Are you blushing?” The red-head asked him, failing to hide a bemused laugh.

Dimitri nodded, still slack jawed. “You were right.” The first step to getting through this was admitting to himself that he was, infact, horrendously jealous.

“When are you going to learn, Your Highness?” The grin on Sylvain’s face was likely going to last for several days. “I just know these things.”

“I am also concerned that I may have some...” How to say it... “ _Issues_... with my temper.”

Felix, who had been ignoring him up until this point, turned to him with the most dull-eyed, exasperated, fed up look on his face. “Is that so?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want it to go on record, that one of my bullet notes for the outline of this one was “One day at the market, Reader Insert hears the sound of some ruffians NOT RESPECTING WOMEN,” hope that clues you folks in to my writing process.
> 
> I ain't out here bashin' Lorenz. I know he's a good dude, if you take the time to do all his supports. But that boi don't learn he's being weird towards girls until later into his and Byleth's supports. (Is that a good defense? Idk.)
> 
> Y'all know the drill, I'll take a request if you've got it. Thank you so kindly for reading. <3


	7. Introvert II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kei, back at it again with our introverted reader, but this time we’re with our main man, feral!Dima. We’re still in our typical Gratuitous job - medical research, we’ve just got a much less chatty reader. Hope that works for you.

He left you on your own again. You tried not to take it personally. He had Imperials and bandits to hunt down, and you had research to do. You two didn’t talk much, but that was probably for the best. He didn’t have much to say to you, only to the dead. And you? You had gotten better at speaking, marginally, but he was... Scary. He didn’t mean you harm, you believed, it was just hard to speak around him. He had the pinnacle of all resting bitch faces. You felt like he was glaring at you, even if he wasn’t. It was enough to make you shy away from it. He used to be one of the only people you didn’t have trouble being around. Now just looking at him caused you pain. You were almost grateful for the two days of solitude you got whenever he disappeared. You dwelled on the past less, when you didn’t have to look at him. But when he left for longer than that, you got worried.

So today you were worried.

It was getting late into day two. You knew he could defend himself just fine, but you on the other hand, were quite squishy. Having that rather terrifying figure on guard duty for you was surprisingly comforting. Where was he? Had he finally gotten sick of you and just left you in this isolated place? No... Even the way he was now, he probably wouldn’t have done that without telling you, at least. But what was taking him so long?

You would have loved for him to be by your side, because you heard people. A few of them. A group was making their way through the monastery. You had seen them through a window, as you were taking a stroll in an effort to give yourself a break. You proceeded to dive out of sight, but unfortunately, this caused you to lose track of them, because you were too afraid to go back to the window and risk them spotting you, even with the sun going down. You booked it back to the library, gathering up all of your papers, and the tomes you were working with. You couldn’t let them take these, whoever they were, and there was no time to put them back on the shelf. You needed them. The war effort needed them.

You didn’t get a long enough look at them to determine their allegiance, but the only people frequenting Garreg Mach these days were thieves, the prince, and you. Odds are, these folks were bandits. You shoved everything you could in your satchel. You had to keep these medical treatises safe, and with you. If you had to flee from the monastery grounds, at least you would have your work on you. You could probably handle a fight with someone one on one, having the advantage of magic. But you couldn’t take on a group by yourself.

All that was left to do now was hide. And the library was not the place to do it - it only had one exit, not counting the windows, which were a good forty feet up from the second level. You needed somewhere with multiple exits, just incase you were spotted. Perhaps you could go hide in the cathedral? With it being partially collapsed, they would be less inclined to go in to begin with - and it was where His Highness liked to lurk. His side was the safest place to be at the moment. You sprinted down the hall, hoping to beat these strangers to the stairs.

_ Your Highness, where are you? _

You ran into someone, but it wasn’t who you were hoping for, at all. It was some random putz in leather armor. Yup. It was a brigand. Just your fucking luck. By some miracle, slamming face first into this person had not knocked you on your ass. You stumbled back a little bit, but kept standing. It briefly occured to you to attack him, but you didn’t find it necessary. You had rattled the man, and you had recovered before him, giving you the opportunity to dash past him, and down the stairs. Sadly, there were about four more people at the bottom, and all of them were armed. You had no choice but to surrender for the time being. four vs. one... Well that wasn’t fair. 

You let them think you were helpless, but unimportant. They had demanded an explanation - who were you, why were you here? You clammed up. Not because you had anything to hide, but because, fuck, this was a really big group of people! You couldn’t speak in front of that many strangers! Fuck that! They yelled at you some more, as they marched you back up to the library and you stammered out the word, “Medicine,” As your reason for being here.

That managed to put it in most of their heads that you were here for benevolent purposes, and that they shouldn’t do anything too sketchy. Or so you hoped. It was hard to judge another person’s morals when just looking at them was difficult. They could tell by looking at you that you weren’t a random peasant. Ingrid’s old chemise, and your skirt. Your clothes were just a bit finer than the average travelers. So they tied your hands behind your back, and had you sitting against a bookshelf, as they tried to figure out who you were, and what they were going to do to you.

They left a literal child to keep watch on you as they scanned over which books in the library they could pilfer. He was a boy around fourteen, armed with a dagger, though he didn’t really know how to hold it. He still had spots on his face. He almost reminded you of Cyril, from all those years ago. Just a short, dorky kid. “What’s your name?” He asked, sitting cross legged on the floor next to you.

You didn’t answer him. You didn’t quite glare at him, but his companions had ordered him to go through your satchel, which pissed you off to put it lightly. You didn’t have time for idle chatter, not that you could handle it to begin with. You were scheming. They tied you with rope, but if you concentrated enough, you could probably use a small fire spell to burn through it. Then you could get up and run. You just had to wait for the right opportunity. There were five sets of eyes in this room, watching you wearily. There had to be a distraction of some kind first. The sun was almost down - maybe you could pull something off when it got darker...

“Don’t bother, Lucius. She’s not gonna talk if you ask her anything nicely.” The man you ran into earlier hollered. “We’ll have Brutus deal with her.”

You did not want to meet Brutus. But boy, Brutus seemed excited to meet you, with the smirk growing on his face from across the room. Little Lucius spoke up, “Hey, no! She hasn’t done nothing!” His voice cracked when he spoke. They brought a baby to a robbery! What was this kid doing with a group of thieves that were willing to take a random woman hostage? He seemed way too soft for this lifestyle. “Ma said not to do nothing to folks who haven’t hurt you...”

“I don’t care what your ma says. Just go through her bag, kid!” Brutus snapped. Not gonna lie, Brutus was a bit of a dick. The boy’s face fell into a pout, and he begrudgingly began to empty your satchel onto the ground. Big boy Brutus moseyed on over, also weilding a small dagger - except he definitely knew how to use it. He watched your eyes follow it as he came close to you. “So... What’s a gal like you doing in a place like this.”

“... Medicine.” You repeated again. That was the only word you seemed to be able to formulate.

“You said that before - but I don’t know anyone who’d keep medicine in a library. Do you?” You didn’t give him an answer quick enough it seemed, not that you were able to. He grabbed you by the hair, whacking your head into the bookshelf. “It’s real dangerous here, miss. What could you be lookin for to risk the safety of a fragile, little lady like yourself?”

“Brutus!” Lucius yelped.

The man you ran into cut the kid off before he could intervene on your behalf, “Don’t bother, little man. Let the big guy do his thing.”

You inhaled sharply, your skull sufficiently rattled, but genuinely, you had nothing to say. Your eyes were widened, slightly bewildered that he had opened this interrogation with violence. Wasn’t that something people worked up to? You weren’t intentionally being uncooperative, you were just bad at public speaking. Brutus was obviously a violent individual. It boded poorly for you. Where was His Highness?

“What are you lookin’ for?” He leveled the point of his blade with your pupil, using his grip on your hair to pull you towards it. “Better tell me, I don’t like repeatin’ myself.”

“Don’t...” Your chest tightened as the blade lowered, and brushed your cheek. If he put any pressure behind it, the knife would have spliced your face open. “When he comes back...”

“What’s that missy?” Brutus pressed the flat of the blade against your skin.

“He’ll kill you if you...” You grit your teeth. Stall for time, stall for time - wait for that monstrous man who you used to be able to call by name to come save you. Words still weren’t your strong suit, “If you hurt me, you’ll regret it...”

“You threatening me?!” Brutus barked.

“She said someone’s coming back for her!” Lucius grabbed the man’s knife arm.

“Would you relax?!” The bandit yanked his hand away, and you breathed a sigh of relief, your face out of fileting distance for the time being. “I’m tryna figure out who she is- what have you been doin?”

“She works for the Eastern Lords,” The boy held up one of your notebooks, adorned with the Crest of Fraldarius in the leather cover. “That’s the symbol of-”

“Of those dicks up north! I’ll be damned, you did something useful, Lucius!” He clapped the kid on the back, then turned his attention back to you. “You’ll fetch a good price from those lords, or from the empire...”

So he wanted to use you for ransom. Behind your back, you were putting all your concentration into using the smallest fire spell on the ropes that you could. Magic was wild. It was easier to use it recklessly, without control. It took focus to control it, to use the correct amount to avoid hurting yourself, and hide it from those people around you. You couldn’t go too quick with it, or the ropes would slack, or it would start to smell like smoke, tipping them off to what you were doing. 

You weren’t worth much to the empire - you weren’t given information on tactics and plans, you were just a medic. It was Lord Fraldarius that concerned you - your capture would put him in a bit of a moral bind. He cared for you, but he shouldn’t have to spare any attention and resources towards you when he should have been focusing on the Dukedom. Felix damn well would have marched out here to get you himself, you supposed, but he was needed at the front. Not that you were going to speak up about it.

“Casca!” The rogue they sent out to keep watch reappeared in the doorway. The man you ran into turned his attention to his companion, “Scary looking bastard in the area...”

“What’s he got on him?” Casca asked.

“Hard to tell, real dark out - black armor on. He’s big too.”

Ah, sounded like your big scary looking bastard. Brutus must have suspected this. “Doesn’t sound like an imperial,” He leaned into you, too close to your face for comfort, “That your friend, sweetheart?”

In the moment, you burned through enough of the rope to free one of your arms. Lucius noticed it too late to give a warning to his boss. You smashed him across the face, with your broiled hand, and you shrieked, “Dimitri!” You scrambled to your feet as Brutus writhed on the floor from his burns, shrugging the rope off your shoulders, and making a mad dash for the door, projecting your voice as loudly as you could. “Dimitri, help me!” Your way forward was blocked, the thief who had announced him was still in the door frame. You attempted to barrel through him, knocking him down in the hallway. He clung to you though, taking you down with him.

You did not stop screaming for the prince until Brutus recovered, stood, and beared down on you without mercy. Your handprint was burned on his face. He was pissed.

Your cries for him echoed down the hallway, and praying it reached His Highness was all you could do on that front. You struggled against the grip of the doorway lackey, who was keeping you pinned as Brutus kicked you repeatedly. You heard the fabric of your shirt tearing as you managed to situate yourself enough to bite the man holding you. It shocked him enough to let go between kicks to your ribs. You grabbed the foot coming at you, twisting it, and forcing the man off balance. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug.

You dragged yourself down the hallway, wheezing for the prince. Your chest ached. Nothing broken, but definitely bruised. You hoped your prayer ring would take care of that soon. You kept yelling his name - a name you used to mumble softly, the one only you seemed to call him by - begging him to come help you. This was the loudest you had been in years, but the circumstances were not triumphant. You couldn’t bring yourself to a crawl, stuck on your stomach from the pain. You had made it to the corner though, and in the distance, you heard the clanging of metal... It was his armor! Further and further you went. You could see the stairwell, his steps were getting louder, faster.

And then Brutus, that irritating fuck, grabbed your hair again. He yanked on you so hard, you were forced up onto your knees. You felt the dagger against your throat. You clammed up again, an odd, sinking feeling in your stomach, that if you made so much as a peep, he would put that knife to use.

“Brutus, you got her?” Casca hollered into the hallway.

“Yeah,” He grunted back, “Determined little bitch, ain’t she?” His victory was short lived. Your yelling had drowned out the sound of your companion’s approach. “Thought you could pull a fast one and hide your magic, huh darlin’?”

His Highness had reached the top of the staircase, and the first thing he saw was the moonlight glinting off of a knife to your neck. He drew an iron lance to his side, and he charged forward.

You let the fire spell flare again, singeing the brigands arm, forcing him to drop the knife. You still couldn’t quite break his grasp, but you did not need to. The prince, who had closed the gap sooner than you could blink, used his offhand to grab Brutus by the top of his head. You did not see it, but you heard the crackling noise, and you knew that the thief’s skull had been crushed. The body landed next to you with a dull thud. You had tried to warn him that this would happen, hadn’t you?

“What the fuck..?!” The rogue sentry, still near the doorway mewled. This was probably the first time he had seen someone die like that. Not that you wanted to cognitively keep track, but this was the second or third time you had witnessed the vitals being crushed by your savior. You were less phased than you probably should have been.

His Highness did not care about the filth at the end of the hall. He leaned down to get a good look at you, lit by the moon. You gazed back, wide-eyed, but safe, now that he was there. His gaze almost softened with concern for you, but not for long. He was already angry. That was his default emotion. But now, his blood was boiling. He saw the tearing of your blouse, exposing much of your torso and the bruises already forming. With the way war was, he could only draw one conclusion as to why they did that to your clothing. His rage boiled over. You saw what little light was left in his eye extinguish, before he marched on down the hall. They would suffer for what they tried to do to you.

He skewered the man cowering at the end of the hall through the neck. You were so grateful it was difficult to see. Through the choking, you heard the creaking of a mini bow from within the library. His Highness did not seem to care. The arrow bounced off his cloak harmlessly, no damage done. The shot was weak, and the armor and man were strong. You could see his face in the moonlight, as it turned to the library. He looked amused, a cruel grin spreading from ear to ear.

You heard screaming, as you finally managed to get to your feet. He was going on a rampage. You heard another body hit the ground, followed by more screaming, and then you heard the boy cry out for Casca. You shambled towards the sound as another body hit the floor. The man in the hall wasn’t dead yet, you could tell from his weak choking noises. The prince had left him to bleed out. You got back into the library as his massive frame turned away from the body, it’s head under his foot. He was looking at Lucius, who was paralyzed on the floor. 

“Your Highness, wait.” You said softly. You cursed yourself internally - now was not the time to be quiet, as much as speaking strained you. “Wait..!” You croaked with a bit more conviction, as he put his weight down on the skull, crushing it under his heel. 

Trying to contain all that rage was causing his chest to heave. Even under his cloak, you could see the extreme rise and fall of his shoulders from his breathing. He was trying to stay calm, to steady himself. This carnage was him exercising restraint. He took a heavy step towards the boy, spear at the ready.

“Your Highness, don’t.” You stumbled across the floor as quickly as you could, careful to stay audible so he knew who was approaching, and did not lash out at you. “That’s enough...”

He yanked his arm away from you when you tried to reach out to him, growling, and continuing his pursuit of the terrified boy on the floor. Your presence had wiped the grin right off his face.

“Please stop!” You shouted suddenly, grabbing him again before he could brush you off. You took him coming to a standstill as a small victory. As you got in front of him, and looked up at him, you weren’t so sure. 

Though he was doing this for you, the fact that you were getting in his way infuriated him. He wanted the rats dead. That softer twinge in his eye he gave you moments ago was gone. You weren’t even sure if you were looking into the eye of another human being. That deep blue was dull, the pupil a pin prick. With the way he glared at you, you thought he was going to kill you too. “Get out of my way.” He hissed through grit teeth.

“Please, he’s just a kid...” You tried to reason as he attempted to throw you off of his arm again. You couldn’t let him do this, you couldn’t let him kill a boy - there would be no saving him after that point. You buried your face into his armored chest, throwing your arms around him, “Dimitri, please!”

He froze fully this time. The utter desperation you had been calling his name with hurt something deep within him. Long, long, long ago, you were one of the only people who ever called him by that, even if you did it in a demure, and shaky way. Minutes ago it was sheer distressed, panic. Now it was broken, choked, as you clung to him in a fit of fear that he had caused. It was making him hesitate. He was trying to protect you - why did you sound so afraid?

“Please don’t, Dimitri, please don’t hurt him..!” You couldn’t look up at him - you didn’t want to. It went beyond a difficulty in locking eyes with him now. If he had kept looking at you with that hateful stare in his eye, you didn’t know what you were going to do. He used to be one of the only people you could hold eye contact with. He used to be one of the only people you could speak to without stammering. You two used to drink tea together, and help each other with paper work, just enjoying idle chatter. You were so comfortable around him you would fall asleep in his arms. What happened to all that? You couldn’t even feel whoever this terrifying person was. The steel plating blocked any warmth, any pulse - where was your prince? There was a certain choking feeling in your throat that had finally manifested as a sob. “Dimitri...”

He dropped his lance to the ground. Hearing you sob his name fully snapped him out of his haze of blood lust. He watched as the boy on the floor finally got it together enough to get off the ground and make a run for it. He was going home - and he wasn’t going to stop running until he got there. The Prince let him. It frightened him, monstrous as he was, that you had to beg him to make it happen. As his weapon clattered, and the fleeing footsteps faded, he pulled away from you, only so he could look you up and down once more, “... Are you hurt?” He finally asked, after a long pause.

You heard the faintest of concern in his voice, giving you the strength to look up with teary eyes. Now he was the one having trouble looking you in the face, it seemed. “One of them kicked me a few times, hit my head on a shelf... That’s it though.”

The rest of his body seemed to unfreeze with that. The ripped clothing was not what he had feared. As your hands finally slid off of him, he watched you try to pull the cloth back into place, and cover yourself as you preferred. Without much thought, he took off his cloak, and wrapped it around you instead. There was a lot he wanted to say to you, but then again, he might have been worse with words than you were these days. He settled for offering you a saddened, concerned gaze. It held his apology in it. 

That was more like the man you remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story about this one. I originally had it much more... humorous. In it's early outline, the bandits were trying to interrogate the reader, and she just kept not saying anything, or just blurting random things out, and the bandits were like 'holy shit, this woman is tough as nails, she isn't telling us shit!' and in reality, she was just too shy to actually be coherent.   
> And then I started outlining the second half where Dima just starts wrecking folks, and I had to make an executive decisions. I decided to scrap the goofy first half, because the tonal whiplash was too dark, even for me! There are still hints of it, but it's no where near the same degree.
> 
> All that aside, I hope I did you justice once more, Kei!


	8. Alt Chapter 8: Worthy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request and alternate chapter from Golly. Our dear Reader Insert does not immediately accept The Prince’s proposal, believing herself unworthy. Hijinks ensue.

_ “May I see your hand?” Fully on autopilot, you did as he asked, and watched dumbstruck as he slipped a ring onto your finger. Not a prayer ring, but a wedding band. “(Y/N), my beloved, when this war is over... will you marry me?” _

_ Now, the short answer was  _ **_HELL YEAH!_ ** _ But the long answer was a lot more complicated, and much more conflicted. You had no crest. You had no nobility. You had been trying to figure out for years why people referred to you as ‘Lady,’ since you had no title. “Am... Am I allowed to marry you?” Wouldn’t that cause an entire court uproar? The king, marrying a commoner? Was there a historical example of a commoner queen? This probably wasn’t the best political move... like at all. _

_ “I do not see why not.” He must have seen the confusion on your face, “I have never cared for one’s noble status, you know that.” _

_ If not for status, then he was marrying you for... seventeen year old you would have lost her shit. Were your teenage affections for someone you had been so convinced you could never have really ended happily? “Dimitri, I love you..!” You blurted out.  _ “But please, I need to think about this.”

He fully respected your hesitation, a gentleman once more. He understood it was a bit sudden of him, perhaps a bit worrisome, with all that the two of you had been through together recently, for you to think of marriage. He brought you back to the monastery, and you told him you would sleep on it. He gave you a princely kiss on the hand, one that dared not overstay its welcome on a lady’s skin, and then departed to give you some much needed space.

You did not stay in his room, spending your night in the infirmary, staring at the ring he had placed on your finger. You would have married him in a heartbeat, if he was not going to be king. You could not jeopardize the future of Faerghus just for the sake of... of your love. You could not be so selfish. You could not let him be this selfish either. Not without weighing your options.

What points and qualifications did you have in your favor? What made a good leader? Charisma came to mind first. Sometimes you said dumb or weird shit out loud, and people found that funny, but you didn’t really think that counted - entire speeches could not have been composed of your weird one-liners. You had the odd talents like fencing, but that was more of a novelty than a direct charm of yours.

After that would have been authority. And for that you had... one year of being a teaching assistant. Shit. For five years straight, you had been taking orders as a medic - you listened to people, and the only time they listened to you was instructions on how not to further agitate a wound.

You didn’t even have a noble background to fall on. Sure, you were well off for a commoner, but that was thanks to your old man’s business and social skills. You didn’t learn any tricks of the trade from him, since you had decided to aid the war effort instead! The mere suggestion of you as an option for the prince would have caused an uproar. He should be with someone of stronger blood, who was raised to govern. Just how much could your friendship with all these younger nobles help you? They all understood paperwork, and law. A ruler couldn’t leave their spouse to do all that dense legal work themselves. What kind of paperwork did you know how to do? Prescription writing? That was it. That wouldn’t be fair to Dimitri, not at all... 

That wasn’t even acknowledging your character as a person - something you did have control over. As far as you were concerned, you were not mentally powerful enough to rule. Your sins still weighed heavily on your mind.  _ Murder.  _ You had not yet made peace with that. You doubted you ever would. How could you indulge a decadent lifestyle when as far as you were concerned, you belonged in prison? Maybe you could go easy on yourself, and you could take up nunnery as a form of repentance - but you should not be rewarded for what you had done. 

When the war is over, you should join the Knights of Seiros, and do better for this world - or go home to father, become a spinster. But no, His Majesty had wanted you, despite everything. You thought about all of this all night, hardly getting a wink of sleep because of it. You wanted to say ‘Yes,’ but you knew damn well you had no right to. You knew in your gut you were going to have to tell him you could not accept his proposal.

Or you would have liked to do that, if you had not unfortunately realized you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. You were going to go tell him you could not accept his proposal in good conscience. After your first shift in the infirmary, you had crept down to the Knights Hall, where he was holding a small council, directing troop movement. And yet, when you laid your eyes on him, you thought you were choking. Unable to control your feet, you turned and you ran. What the fuck was that? Asphyxiation and lack of autonomy. You would rather not experience that feeling again. If that was what looking at him did, you didn’t want to know what speaking would do - what rejecting his love no matter how badly you wanted it would do.

Fine then, you would go about your business as usual. Might as well do something you were halfway decent at - gardening, nursing, researching something ... Or, again, you would have loved to do that, if it weren’t for Dimitri coming to find you so he could get your answer. You had been narrowly missing him all morning! Just as you would leave a room, you would hear people greet him, and then you would hear him ever so politely ask if they had seen you anywhere. And they would tell him you had just left in an equally polite manner, leading you to take a page out of his book, and sprint for your fucking life to the opposite end of the monastery so you didn’t have to deal with your own feelings. You were in constant fear, because you knew that man was faster than you. If he caught sight of you even slightly, he could close the gap within seconds. And that fact was fucking terrifying. By noon, you had resorted to hiding in the upper level of the library, because no one ever actually went up there other than you.

The Professor sprinted in and looked around wildly for no reason, like he sometimes did, when he noticed you cowering on the balcony. “(Y/N).”

“Hi, Professor.” You gave a half hearted wave.

“Dimitri is looking for you.” He told you flatly. Oh fuck, was Teach on a quest to find your location? You wouldn’t rule it out.

“Is he following you?” You asked.

“I ran past him on my way here.” 

“If you see him again, please don’t tell him where I am...” You felt rather defeated.

“If you two aren’t feeling as close as you usually are, you should both come get some food with me, and talk it out.” It was always difficult to discern if it was a request or an order when Byleth asked mundane shit of you. How thoughtful of him to try and build support though.

You frowned, “No thank you, I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

He gave you that blank, thousand yard stare that you had foolishly believed he had outgrown since he had developed human emotions. “With what?”

Oh did he want to go on a fetch quest for you now? “Thinking about things...”

“Nice ring.” He spoke with a sudden enthusiasm. “Where’d you get it?”

How in the FUCK did he see that from down there? You clenched your fist, not answering him as you heard familiar footsteps approaching.  _ “Don’t tell him I’m here!” _ You mouthed.

His face went blank again, as Dimitri walked in with an, “Ah, Professor!” You would know the way his armor clanked against the floor anywhere. You had come to recognize it when he wasn’t being stealthy. You crouched down by the rail, attempting to hide in the shadows, but to spy regardless. “Professor, I am sorry to bother you, but have you seen (Y/N) anywhere?”

Byleth’s eyes flicked up to you.  _ “Play dumb!” _

He looked back to The Prince, not a hint of humor in his face and voice. “Who’s (Y/N)?”

_ “NOT THAT DUMB!” _ You slumped away from the balcony, just incase Dimitri was curious as to what The Professor was looking at, and you put your head in your hands. By the fucking Goddess, he did not just do that! There was no fucking way he did that seriously! Then again, Byleth made like... a single joke every few months, and this did not feel like one of them.

“I see you’re working on your sense of humor...” He sounded a bit disappointed. “If you find her, please ask her to come see me. She and I have something important to discuss.”

“I’ll let her know.”

You imagined that The Prince gave a bow when he replied with his “Thank you,” Before taking his leave.

You snuck back towards the light of the balcony, and looked down to Byleth.

“He said to come talk to-”

“I heard him.” You cut the man off, exasperated. This shit did not help you at all. Now you just felt worse for avoiding him. “Thank you for covering for me...”

All this prolonging only served to make you more anxious. You decided to go speak to him, for real this time. You very well may have a stroke and die the second you locked eyes, but at least this whole mess would be over and done with if that happened. You came down from your little hiding space in the books, and you jogged past The Professor, and down the hall after His Highness. You weren’t a coward! You could do it!

“Dimitri..!” You squeaked, trying to catch up with him, your heart thundering against your ribs.

As he turned, his resting frown fell away, growing into a small, but content smile. “(Y/N), I’ve been looking all over for you!”

No you couldn’t! You were a total and complete coward! “Dimitri...” You said his name again, struggling to say anything else. Oh, your heart shattered when he looked at you. You would have gotten rather bashful towards the fact that your mere presence made him happy, but you were burdened with being the reason that sweet smile would fall. And you had to, for the sake of the kingdom. Surely, he would understand. You quickly looked away from him, not another sound escaping you.

“Are you alright?” He rested a careful, comforting hand on your shoulder. His figure absolutely dwarfed you, dwarfed almost everyone, and yet he was always tremendously delicate towards you. What a caring husband he would have made for you...

You had gotten so used to being close to him again, that you could not help but take that hand, and wrap it in your own. “Do you want to go for a walk?” Ah, dammit! You fool! You cretin! You had one job!

He could see how downcast you were, “Of course.” He let you keep on clutching his hand, understanding that you may have needed something to ground you in whatever was troubling you. He would pause what he was tracking you down for, until you felt better, he decided. He had suspected that you may have been avoiding him, and deep down, he was quite certain that you were going to decline, with how you were acting. His own feelings had been partially eased by the fact that you had not taken off the ring he had given you. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? At the very least it was allowing him to stay relatively composed.

Shit, you were still wearing that ring. It was silver, simple, but beautiful. It fit you perfectly. Well, no shit, it was made for you. It was so pretty, and it was given to you with great love. You didn’t even know where you were leading him. You couldn’t even lead a single man around, and he wanted you to help him run a country?! Why were you still holding his hand? People could see you! You seemed to have ended up at the market. At the very least, if you eventually managed to cough out what you needed to, you could disappear into the crowd.

“Oh, (Y/N).” Your companion stopped walking after you, and since he was much bulkier than you, you were pulled to a halt. “The bakery is open again.”

A happy consequence of the growing Kingdom army. The villages surrounding Garreg Mach had their economy restored, and with that, many of the businesses that went under following the imperial invasion had returned. A particular bakery, with a fruit tart to die for was included in all that. “That’s nice...”

He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, before releasing you. “I’ll go get you something, please wait here.” He wanted you to perk up. You weren’t looking at him, and it hurt. But maybe it would hurt a bit less if you were in a better mood, even if you still avoided his gaze.

“Hey, wait-” But he was already gone. He had pulled something like this before... a long, long, long time ago just to try and cheer you up. You must have been visibly upset... You took a seat on the bench outside the confectionery, and you planned on waiting for him, thinking some sweets might soften the incoming blow. Then you remembered Dimitri couldn’t taste anything, so you would be doing marginally better, but he wouldn’t. Oof.

And then, someone called out your name, but with the prefix of ‘Lady,’ No one that you were actually friend’s with did that unironically. You initially believed they were speaking to someone else, but then, a second time and much closer a man’s voice, “Lady (Y/N)!”

Plodding into your view was a cheery chap, perhaps a few years your senior. And he looked vaguely familiar, as did the three other men approaching behind him. “Um, hello.” You definitely knew the guy, but not well... Aw shit, this was gonna be awkward, because this suitor was one that you had known for years, but had never actually learned the name of. Baxter? Bentley? Brandon?

“Gentleman, did I not tell you? The war has not dulled her radiance in the slightest. Truly, her beauty shines as brightly as the sun-” He went off like that for a hot minute. He seemed to fancy himself a troubadour, waxing poetic about your aesthetic, and how honorable your family was. Which was cool and all, except it kind of undercut other important things, like your personality, and your career - which he didn’t seem to know anything about. He didn’t even offer up a ‘ _ never so sweet a maid, has there ever been!’ _ which is just standard among poets in Fodlan. 

“Not to interrupt you,” You cut into Whatshisface’s serenade. You really weren’t sure if this dude was trying very hard with whatever it was he was trying to do. “What is this all about? I see you have some friends...”

“Ah, how rude of me, my lady!” He gave you a grandiose, sweeping bow, without a hint of irony in it. He then straightened up and extended a hand to you, uncomfortably in your face. “We have come to escort you back to your home so that you may finally pick a worthy suitor!”

“Did my father send you for this? I didn’t get a letter...” The old man was a staunch supporter of the kingdom - he was the one who told you to stay at Garreg Mach! Also, he fucking hated these dudes. Something just wasn’t adding up. You did not take this man’s hand for that reason. That, and you were out with a dear man who needed to hear some nation saving bad news. “He knows I can’t just abandon my post...” 

“No, we are here on our own volition!” He shook his hand a little, beckoning you to take it.

Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean to you - nothing good. These men were trying to stage the world’s most ‘polite’ kidnapping. You leaned back uncomfortably, though this gent seemed to have his head so far up his ass he hardly noticed. Thankfully someone considerably more tolerable appeared, “Are these friends of yours, (Y/N)?” Dimitri asked, appearing at your side and handing you a fruit tart.

“Um...” ‘Friend’ was a strong word. Frankly, so was ‘acquaintance.’ You looked up at him with that _ ‘dear goddess, please help me,’ _ panic in your eyes, hoping he would understand, before quickly looking away. You wanted a distraction from these weirdos, and you found it in the pastry. “... Are we going to split this?”

He took a glance at the weirdos who had crept even closer to you, realizing the situation you were in. “If you would like, my beloved.” Ooh. Bold of him! Effective for the moment, although in the long run it was going to make your heart ache. The picture of confidence, he sat beside you on the bench as though it was his destined throne.

The suitor who’s name you were convinced began with B’s face twisted into mild displeasure, his hand falling away. “My dear, fair lady (Y/N), who is this knave?”

Ugh, for one fucking sentence, could this dude just say something normally? _ ‘Hey, who’s this guy flirting with you? Is it weirding you out?’ _ It’s not difficult! “Oh, where are my manners?” Spicy of him to call royalty a knave though. He did still have that slightly edgy look due to the eye-patch, but since he had dawned the Great Lord armour, and had tied his hair back, he was looking quite dashing, and almost like he had his shit together. “Gentleman, may I present, His Highness, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.”

You watched the group of men go pale. B-something-or-other suddenly slumped into a stiff bow, coughing- “Your Highness!” You took this time to take a bite of your fruit tart. It was positively delectable.

“You do not need to bow, please. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Dimitri attempted to coax the men into retaining their own dignity, just to be polite. “(Y/N), how do you know these men?”

You swallowed to answer, the sweet fruit was gone too soon. “... They’re suitors...” You thoughts were moving a mile a minute. If these creeps were desperate enough to come track you down without your father’s knowledge, you doubted they would accept ‘no’ as an answer from you. They already disrespected your boundaries to begin with... But you know who they would have to obey? One very strong prince that you knew, despite the circumstances, you could rely on. “They seem to have come for me against my father’s wishes...” As subtle as you could, you tried to retake his hand. _ I’m uncomfortable, please help... _

“I see...” He already understood the problem, but this verbal confirmation made his pleasant gaze narrow into a glare. “I’m afraid that simply won’t do. I must ask that you leave her alone.”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, we came a very long way to see her.” B-Man almost chuckled as he spoke.

“You came a long way to defy the wishes of her, and her family.” Dimitri stated flatly, hardly finding any humor in what he realized was a case of stalking. His fingers twitched around yours as he kept speaking, the irony somewhat dawning on him. “She will speak to you of marriage when she is ready.” Ouch. Maybe he should have spoken with you about governmental responsibility before he popped the question... _ When you were ready... _

B-Boy did not take that well, despite the prince and you taking this entire situation with remarkable patience. “Listen here you-”

He shut right the fuck up when Dimitri stood again, towering over the man. Do people not realize that he’s actually huge at first glance? He’s six two, and it showed. “I AM listening, my friend.”

The suitor gulped, realizing he didn’t stand a chance against the prince. He instead did his best to scowl, and turned his attention to you. “Lady (Y/N), you must return home, and settle this whole matter!”

“No.” Man, you just wanted to enjoy your fruit tart with the man that you did actually want to marry but couldn’t. “None of you qualify for my hand - you haven’t beaten me in a fencing match. I’m sure my father has made that quite clear.” You took another bite of the pastry. If this kept up, there wouldn’t be any left for Dimitri! “I am trying to do my work here. Please go home, and I will do my best to forget that this happened.”

“My lady, we came all this way-” One of B-it’s-on-the-tip-of-your-tongue’s back up buddies attempted to speak, as the other man was in complete stunned silence, though he seemed to be seething with rage.

“I did not ask you to.” They were arguing for themselves in circles. He was trying to raise a point that was already struck down. Idiot... Desperate idiot...

“You... You bitch!” B-Bastard suddenly snapped, lunging at you and slapping you across the face. “You ungrateful harlot!”

That little shit made you drop your fruit tart! Your hand came to your cheek. It didn’t hurt you too badly - but it certainly caught you off guard. You were about to rip the fucker a new one, but His Highness beat you to it by a mile.

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd was extremely earth-shatteringly, unreasonably, fuck-ass mad, and was holding the man by the neck - it was his fear of horrifying you alone that he had not broken it yet. You came to the slightly upsetting realization, as your prince choked the man, that he may have mentally snapped again, in your defense.

“Braedon no!” Another one of the suitors cried out, though the three of them were too petrified to intervene on their companions behalf. Wow, and these lads really thought they had a shot with you? Ew.

_ Oh shit, that’s his name! _ You were so close to getting it, Brandon was a great guess! No time for that though, you had a murder to prevent! You stood from the bench, mourning your dearly departed fruit tart, and you approached the feral prince. “Hey... Put him down.” You told him gently. Literally though, he needed to put the suitor down - he had the poor coward at least a foot off the ground - that feat meant the Crest of Blaiddyd was in effect, and thus, his uncontrollable strength could flair at random.

“I should kill him.” The Prince growled. He was taking very deep breaths, holding on, barely, to threads of restraint. “He hit you.”

“I’m aware.” You nodded your head, “But don’t hurt him.”

“Why shouldn’t I?!” He snapped, his teeth bared at the thrashing, choking man in his grip.

“Because I asked you not to.” You reached out and held his off hand, trying to coax it out of the fist it was curled in. “Let him go, Dimitri.”

Braedon should be grateful to you that he would live another day. The Prince dropped the poet-suitor, solely by your request. The suitor hit the ground, and he scrambled towards his buddies in a fit of fear. They all turned tail and ran for their lives, disappearing into the crowd of people just trying to go to the market. So that was one problem solved. Major bummer that you couldn’t smack any of them around yourself, though.

Dimitri was shaking with rage, from head to toe. He was angry about being angry. He had finally given up vengeance, but here he was again, full of fury because of a single fool’s action. You saw the shadows forming under his eye, his jaw clenched, his teeth grinding. You could feel him tense up further as you brushed some hair from his face, displaced from how he tied it back in his sudden rush. He tried to breath - he would never forgive himself if he ever lashed out at you. He tried even harder to focus on the concern in your eyes. “You’re looking at me...”

“Yeah?” You sure were!

“You’ve been looking away from me all this time...” He once more reached for your hand. Not a scar on it. Stable. Soft. He wanted to get out of fight mode. He had spent far too much time there. No more. No longer.

He was calling you out on running from him, not looking at him... And you didn’t even have a fruit tart you could shove in your face to dodge the issue anymore. You settled for hugging him, giving him the affection he so clearly needed, with the added bonus of not having to stare at the sudden dead, lack of shine in his visible eye.

“You told them, ‘no.’” He murmured into the top of your head. He made no move to hold you further. “You can tell me ‘no,’ too, but please... Don’t avoid me.”

You sighed heavily. “I want to marry you, Dimitri.” It was with those words that you felt his arms curl around you in return, but your voice got quiet, “But I can’t be queen.”

“Why not..?” He asked. His voice had that flat tone, edged with a hiss. You thought he had finally moved past that for good.

“I know nothing.” You could feel him bunch your shirt into his fists. You had observed that action when bedding him. It was his way of holding you without accidentally crushing you when his adrenaline was up. “I do not lead. I have never governed. I don’t understand court life. I have nothing to offer to the crown. I have no title, no crest, no prestige. I’m not a politician...” You felt them welling in your eyes, but you would not let your tears fall. This wasn’t about putting yourself down, as much as it hurt, it was about your country, your home. “Dimitri, you have to think about The Kingdom... Your people!”

“The people do not need another politician right now, (Y/N)!” You felt the grip around your body tighten along with his fist and the fabric - he was frustrated. “They need a human being- They need someone capable of empathy!” He was not done yet, “You are so kind and gentle. The common people would love you!”

“Then what about the court? Do you really think they’ll tolerate a commoner as a queen?”

“Damn the court, and all that they stand for, if they reject you for such nonsense..!” He hissed, “They do not belong in my court if that is how they judge someone’s worth.” 

He would dispose of all his advisers, some whose family had served his for generations, all for you. “Would I be a worthy queen to Faerghus, Dimitri?”

“More worthy than anyone I know.” He softened his tone, having settled down to a certain degree, finally loosening his vice grip around you. “... I love you. I did not get to tell you that yesterday...”

Had this all been resolved enough for you to look at him? You ventured to gaze up at him, no longer hiding in his furs and armor. Good news, you did not die on the spot. He stared back at you, his eye still lacking light. The poor man... Oh well, you would happily return his affection, if he believed in you so much, even on the edge of madness. You leaned into him for a quick kiss, hoping he would accept that as an answer.

All signs pointed to him accepting quite readily. He pressed you into him, prolonging your lip lock with a small bit of force behind it. Given his mood, it was still very restrained, but you could tell he was pleased as he pulled you close.

You finally broke away from each other, best keep it civil in public. His eye regained a bit of depth. That’s the raw power of marriage, you supposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dead ass could not think of a good line to end on, so... go read Gokushufudou?
> 
> Currently only have two prompts in the works at the moment. But my holiday is ending, and I'm back to uni in a few days. I'll still be working, because writing is a form of stress relief for me. I probably won't have too many rapid fire updates. Still, give me any requests if you want em' because like I said, stress relief!


	9. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Golly, back at it again forcing me to be a coherent writer, and address the consequences of things I have written for characters. Shucks sport, ya got me. This one is a bit shorter than some of my other chapters, but it’s also... denser? Does that make sense? Oh well, I hope it suffices!

Funny thing, and by funny, I mean annoying thing about trauma - just because you are happy, doesn’t mean it just goes away. Wouldn’t that be nice though? Between you and your husband, you had enough scarring shit in your heads to make most grown men sob themselves to sleep at night. Bringing peace to the continent didn’t change the fact that you still hadn’t worked through everything that had happened to you. Even some of the things that you had processed more easily flared up once in a while. You could only imagine what Dimitri was dealing with. He appreciated your support, but you felt bad you could never understand the totality of what he had gone through. What you did understand was that he had lost everything. Twice. Third time’s the charm though. He hadn’t lost you yet, nor did you intend to let that happen.

The two of you did your best to work through it all together. You both wanted nothing more than the other to be at rest. He was worried for your safety when he slept at night. He feared that he would snap awake in a frenzy, and that he would hurt you before he could realize that he was no longer dreaming. So far the worst he had done was thrash a bit too hard, knocking you onto the floor of your bedroom. He woke up the second you grunted out an, “Ow, fuck!” All things considered, it was rather amusing. The floor hurt you more than the accidental push that got you there.

You declined his suggestion to sleep away from him. Back in his... _*ahem*_ _feral_ _days_ , he had once told you that when he woke up next to you, he was able to determine if he was awake, or still dreaming. He didn’t lie. People don’t lie when they’re like that. There’s no need to. There was no way in hell you were going to take that comfort, that assurance away from him. Besides, he was always nice and warm. He was your shelter from the frigid air of Fhirdiad at night.

The most important thing about staying together at night was being able to talk about what could be keeping you up to begin with. Sometimes it was more mundane things - like the odd occasion at council meetings where you would both have to explain to multiple people, in a very short amount of time, that you could not just make certain kinds of unilateral decisions despite being the king or queen. Frankly, the only abuse of power you wanted to commit was arranging the public ass kicking of Bernadetta von Varley’s father. Fucker had it comin’ for what he did to that woman. Realistically, you knew you could not do that... Or Dimitri said you couldn’t do that because ‘something something, ethics.’

And sometimes the pillow talk was quite serious. It wasn’t every night, even for him, but the nightmares were often present. His were diverse, yours were reoccurring. He would bolt upright in the night with a gasp, usually causing you to stir. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you would sit up with him, and tell him that he was awake. You wouldn’t touch him until he would verbally acknowledge you. That was something that was decided on for your own safety. The last thing either of you needed was him attacking you because he didn’t know who you were, and assumed you were hostile. He would whisper your name, and then you would take him by the hand. All this time, and he still loved to hold your hand. The softness grounded him in reality. It was one of the only feelings the nightmares could not mimic. One of the only things his mind could not use against him when he was so helpless.

“You’re awake.” You would reaffirm.

“I’m awake...” He would echo, “I’m awake.” Being awake meant he was home, in the castle, with his lovely wife, and that the war was over. The war was over. The war was over. The war was over.

You would ease him to lay back down, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sometimes it was a yes, sometimes it was a no. It depended. “It troubles me,” He told you once. “They frighten me, and horrify me to such a degree, and yet, I have trouble remembering much.” The blood and gore, the atrocities he had committed. It all haunted him, yes. But what troubled him the most was his inability to remember their faces. How could he repent without knowing who he was supposed to be praying and asking for forgiveness for?

“That’s how dreams are...” You wish you could say the same. It was for the best that he couldn’t remember his dreams. He couldn’t live in that dark past forever. He had to look forward. “It doesn’t make you a bad person... it’s just part of the human mind...”

Your restless nights were less common albeit upsetting - but it was the same, always the same. At this point you had that nightmare memorized front to back, like it was part of a story you had read over and over again. You would awake, quietly, not so much as a whimper escaping you, though the tears would stain your cheeks. As shaken as it made him, you were almost envious that he was able to forget. You could not. Something would not let you forget. Perhaps it was your crime, though you had long since begun rationalizing that you were only defending yourself against a group that attempted to kill you without hesitation. Perhaps it was having to wake up, and see the sleeping face of someone you loved dearly - when before opening your eyes it was the same face that growled at you, called you a monster, hated you with an incomparable vehemence... Yeah, that might weigh on a person a bit.

You two had made your peace on that matter some time ago. He told you he held no ill will towards you for what happened. He held no disdain for you, only love and sympathy. And so, to prove to yourself that you were not afraid of him, when his lance through your heart woke you, you would take a moment to settle yourself, and then you would nestle yourself in his chest. You refused to fear your dear one. You loved him too much to allow that. It still hurt though. Goddess in heaven, did it hurt.

Then came the evening where you accidentally coughed up a sob when you woke up. You didn’t mean to let it escape, it just... sorta... happened. It was a sad little noise, but it was enough where Dimitri stirred from it.

You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to burden him with this mess, when he should have been resting. Goddess knew that he worked tirelessly, seldom giving himself a break. But your breathing had changed - it was not the slow rise and fall of sleep - it was a poor imitation of it, trying too hard.

“My beloved...” His hand brushed the tears from your face, “Why are you weeping?”

No point in faking if he knew you were up, you looked to him. The two of you rested on your sides, staring at each other. But no words escaped you. No more sound. You had caught the rest of your cries, and you swallowed them.

“Were you having that dream again?” He asked softly. He was aware of it. Only part of it. Such a gentle soul you were, he had never assumed there was more than just the killing of the Imperial Knight troubling you all this time later. He hadn’t seen you crying from it himself in quite a while though.

You did what you always did. You shifted yourself closer, and you hid yourself in his warmth, though this time, his arms curled around you. That felt nice... And then the sobs you thought you had buried once more suddenly escaped you.

“(Y/N)...” His fingers curled into your hair, pulling you closer, kissing the top of your head. “It’s alright, my love...” 

That’s right. You were his beloved. His darling queen. Not a monster, not a murderer, not a beast. You were you. And he loved you with all his heart. He would call your name sweetly whenever he looked upon you, and that awful ache in your chest would dissipate, as though it was never there to begin with.

“I’ve got you...” He said, his chest humming as he dragged the tips of his fingers up and down your back. His heart lulling you with a steady, even thudding. “You’re safe, (Y/N)”

The pain from those awful memories, real and false, were not likely to leave you so easily. A hug was not a cure. But damned if it didn’t make you feel a little bit better. And that was good enough for now. This was not the first, nor the last time you would be troubled. C’est la vie. The world must keep on turning, and you must keep on living. Little by little, you two would move on.

You fell back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... How bout that DLC, am I correct fellow gamers?


	10. Introvert III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kei, with the request - We doin’ introverted reader and Feral!Dima fluff today booiiiisss

Do recall, as a teenager, that massive amounts of social interaction made you sleepy. Very, very, very, very, very, very, very sleepy. So sleepy, you briefly rivaled Linhardt as The Crown Narcoleptic of Garreg Mach. You weren’t even actually narcoleptic! You just got tired that easily. Funny thing though, that hadn’t changed much, you discovered when the Resistance moved its headquarters to the monastery. Who would have thought that something as decisive as war would lead to so many people gather together? Bit ironic, don’t you think? You sat through quite a few meetings on a day to day basis. You even spoke during a few (Great job, by the way. Proud of you!) on behalf of the other medics, given that you had been working a bit on that whole public speaking thing over the years. But this also required a considerable amount of your mental energy, and when you ran out of that, well... Nighty night!

Oh, but the question was, where were you supposed to take your much needed midday-nap? You could not lock yourself away, because you stayed in His Highness’ room. He would probably be quite upset if you locked the door, and then overslept. You could not go to the infirmary, because injured troops needed those beds far more than you did - and the only time you slept on the floor there was to rest up before a back to back shift, if you weren’t working, you weren’t supposed to take up space in there. Your precious little gazebo pillar was also out of the question. Too many people met there to chat, making it too noisy to snooze.

Well, gee golly gosh! Was there any other quiet, spacious place on the ground with good air flow where you could pass out for a hot minute? Oh honey, you betcha. There was one great, big, quiet cathedral with a giant ass hole in the roof, just a short walk across the bridge. As soon as it popped into your head, you moseyed right on over and plopped down in front of the rubble pile. Tucking your knees to your chest, you bowed your head.

It was where His Highness had found you later in the day. He hadn’t been looking for you, he was just returning to do what he usually did on his days off - space out while the dead screamed at him even louder for his inaction. Now, he certainly didn’t own that spot in the marble, but he stood there so often, his bootprint was practically indented in the stone. So who gave you the right to take a seat there? He stared down at you expectantly, waiting for you to notice him, get flustered, and run away. You two had been together enough where you did not fear him to the same degree as other people, however you were shy, even to him. But you did not so much as turn your head. As he watched your shoulders rise and fall, slowly, he realized that you were fast asleep.

There was no way you could have been comfortable, you were curled up, damn near in fetal position, on a cold stone floor. The poofs of your skirt were the only comfort being offered to you. And then he remembered, you used to do this all the time. He had joined you once... That was such a nice day... You would be found snoozing in some of the oddest places, although this one was really taking it. You weren’t even resting your back on anything - you were just in an empty space, facing the rubble pile. You must have been down right exhausted for you to do this. For some reason, he found it utterly fascinating. A curiosity to see what you would do next drove him to take a seat beside you, and wait.

_ “What are you doing?” _ Glenn asked him. Dimitri did not answer. He tried not to look at him. He kept his eyes on you.

You didn’t so much as flinch. You truly were knocked out, your breathing soft, your muscles relaxed. However, you shivered as a breeze cut through the opening in the ceiling. Perhaps there had been sun shining on you, and keeping you warm earlier in the morning. The sun had risen further, disappeared behind the clouds, and the light blessed you no more.

As you unconsciously curled into yourself in an attempt to stave off the sudden cold, the prince became consciously aware of how irritated that made him feel. You had been at such peace, and now it was gone. That simply could not stand. He felt an odd compulsion of some kind of etiquette that he had long believed forgotten. When a lady is cold, or when it rains, you offer her a cloak so as to prevent any discomfort for her. It is the gentlemanly thing to do. Now that he thought about it, he had done something similar when those bandits had torn your dress shirt. And even further back from there, he had wrapped you in it during one of your naps at the gazebo. There were some mannerisms he could not avoid doing. He could not leave a lady to deal with the frigid wind on her own.

This time, he had extended the wing of the fabric across your shoulder, his cape being more than large enough to envelope the both of you. You sleepily let out a small hum of approval, a subtle smile gracing your face. You slumped into the source of this newfound warmth, your head landing in the fur collar.

He stayed completely frozen as you almost nuzzled into his shoulder, not wanting to disturb you.  _ “Dimitri...” _ His father spoke, but still the prince was unmoved. He could not disturb a lady.  _ “Dimitri.” _ The Late King called with more force. His Highness tried to not let his breath hitch as the translucent specter of his father stepped squarely in front of him. He dared not look up. If he saw the blood that dripped from King Lambert’s neck, he would twitch, he would shift in fear, and that would surely stir you.

He could not justify stealing your rest away from you. It was his fault you never got to settle down. Nevermind the war councils you attended for his goals and desires. You ran yourself ragged trying to ensure his well being. You were the only medic he had allowed around him - goddess knows he was more trouble than he was worth, throwing himself into every fight with no regard for his safety - more work for you that you didn’t have the time or energy for. Did he thank you for keeping him alive? No. He just didn’t snap at you like he did to the other healers that overstayed their welcome. He could not fathom why, but you were worried for him, and no matter what he did, you refused to stop. His thanks could be not causing that soft smile on your face to fall away.

_ “Dimitri!” _ His father growled at him. The Prince squeezed his eyes shut.  _ “Don’t you dare ignore me, Dimitri!” _ The King screamed, barking out his son’s name over and over again. The sound rang in his ears like the screech following an explosion. The others joined in the shouting. It didn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop. Not as long as he squandered his time and resources he could be using to finally appease the dead. They didn’t stop. They wouldn’t stop. They would never-

It got quiet. You had curled into him further, and had managed to clasp his hand in your unconscious quest for more warmth. Perhaps it was a sign that he was allowed to enjoy this moment without being harangued by those who have passed.

With an exceptional caution, he wrapped an arm around your waist, easing you into a more comfortable lean against him. You had yielded to it so easily. He should have held you like this the night those bastards held you hostage. You were so small compared to him. Small, and quiet. You deserved to feel safe.

“... Dimitri..?”

He felt an inexplicable dread towards the prospect of you finally waking up. But greeted you with a soft, “Good afternoon,” as you blinked up at him. He would be lying if he didn’t find the blush creeping across your face to be absolutely precious. He almost smiled. Almost. 

You could hardly look at him for several days afterwards, but it didn’t bother him too much. It reminded him of a happier time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aight crew, officially back to uni. So, updates are gonna slow down a good bit. Don't y'all worry your precious little heads, I'll still be working. I've currently got five different requests in the works. Y'all will be nice and patient for me, right?
> 
> Thank you for your continued support, and as always, if you want me to throw something together for ya, just let me know ^_^


	11. True Beauty (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Gwen. Our dear reader is troubled by depressive tendencies and insecurities. One feral man demands her affections regardless - loosely incorporated something Golly suggested into it as well that I wasn’t certain I could make a full chapter of... Chief, Imma keep it real with ya. I ain’t too good with detailed smut - so we’re gonna do the “Rachelthehero Brand ‘Tasteful?’ Nonsense Where I Just Kinda Gloss Right on Over the Unsavory Stuff While Still Acknowledging That it’s Happening™.” I hope that is alright - do recall I am genuinely repulsed by the matter... But those who ask shall receive... It ain’t much. But it’s honest work. I don’t know what the metric is for it, but I can’t help but feel like this one is somehow dirtier than the two previous smut scenes I’ve written. Is this just because I’ve mostly been writing fluff and I’ve suddenly been thrown back into the rougher points of debauchery?

There was sometimes a voice in your head. A very loud one. And it often said to you that this life was a pointless one. Some days it was hard to disagree. Much of the world around you was desolate, destroyed, broken. It was tough to watch. It was your responsibility to have the rational, louder voice in your mind. Yes, the war hurt you, hurt everyone. Yes, you had seen many awful things. But one way or another, it had to end. You wanted to hold on to that thought. No matter how difficult it was, you had to cling to hope. The loudest voice in your head had to be your own. It had to be.

Granted, that was easier said than done...

You really had to fight for it, you know? To function. To do much of anything. Because the Goddess decided that you weren’t allowed a sufficient amount of serotonin, and then threw a fucking war at you. Thanks Sothis, you’re a real G. 

It was always very important that you forced yourself to bathe and to eat - no matter how little motivation you had to do it, no matter how little appetite you had. But all that started with getting out of bed everyday. If you lingered too long, you would not rise. Some days you would roll off the mattress, and onto the floor, just to be absolutely certain you were getting up and ready. There was work to be done, and you could not afford to waste time. This wasn’t about you. There were hundreds, if not thousands of lives on the line, and your work may be the only chance they had. The days lacking dopamine slowed you, but you tried not to let it grind you to a halt, not to give into the hopelessness.

Having that eye on you really kept you productive. You could ignore it easier when you had your nose in the books. But when you didn’t have that shield, it felt omnipresent, though in reality it wasn’t. You would prefer that he didn’t look at you. You would rather no one look at you to begin with. You didn’t need people seeing how much of a mess you were, certainly not him. Then again, he probably didn’t care. Why would he? What did you matter to him aside from being another set of eyes to keep watch? That still didn’t explain why he stared.

The two of you reconvened each evening in the dining hall for a modest dinner, and then went upstairs and took shifts so the other person could sleep. Just the two of you against whatever brigand or Imperial the world threw at you. You cooked. You had to. You wouldn’t say you were a good cook by any means, but he couldn’t actually taste anything, so Goddess knows what he would create without someone policing him. Why bother with that when you could manage it yourself? The first few times, you had hummed while you cooked, but when you realized what you had been doing, you became cognizant of his eye on you. Even when you stopped, he still did it.

“Why are you staring at me?” You asked him once, keeping your head pointed down at your plate. You had actually been eating, but the second the words left you, you realized your appetite might have as well.

“Why..?” He narrowed his eyes a bit, not necessarily glaring at you, but with a hesitance, as though he hadn’t been fully aware of what he had been doing. He mulled it over for another second, swallowing his food before he spoke - a spontaneous echo of his table manners, “I want to.”

You tilted your head, waiting for him to elaborate, but he did not give you any follow up. His curtness could be irritating like that. He often made his point in as few words as possible, but this was not one of those times. Were you truly that much of a disastrous spectacle? Was he watching and waiting for you to do something wrong?

“Don’t waste food.” He tapped his gauntlet on the table in front of you, reaching across to do so, and snapping you out of your own mind. He’d been out on his own long enough that he had lost an semblance of royal decadence that he had. “Eat.”

Right, who knew if the village would still have supplies for you to get on your next visit? Better eat now, even if your mind almost rejected it. He might not have known he was doing it, but he was keeping your apathy towards basic self-maintenance in check. 

One evening, you had hazarded a glance up at him, and you had realized that his hair was damp, and that there was the slightest scent of soap about him. If this feral prince had the mental wherewithal to bathe, then you had no excuse left for yourself. The next morning, despite the humidity in the air, you bit the bullet and you went down to the bathhouse and cleaned yourself up. Tragically, your actions had consequences outside of smelling nice. Your hair got frizzy, and no bun could contain it’s extreme poofiness. It was the apex of floofiness. God tier puff. Now it wasn’t world ending, but the loose, renegade strands of hair that escaped a normal tie at the back of your head got in your face. Almost to an aggressive degree, your hair took on a mind of its own, the wisps going straight for your eyes. You knew this was going to irritate you as you did your research that day, and frankly you were dealing with enough distractions as is, so you thought of a quick fix. After a bit of scrounging in some older dormitory rooms, you found a long and wide piece of ribbon, which you utilized as a headband, pinning the strands down. There was still quite a bit of extra fabric, but since it wasn’t yours, you didn’t want to cut it. You settled for tying it in a little bow at the top of your head.

At dinner, you once more languished under Dimitri’s gaze. You must have looked ridiculous, childish even. Was his stare more intense due to lack of depth perception? You were still able to eat - having cleaned up a bit really motivated you. Fuck off melancholia, not today, bitch! The food was palatable though bland - you took it easy in seasoning, because fifty percent of the people eating it would not notice. May as well conserve resources. Still edible, nice job. You ate in silence, occasionally interrupted by the clattering of cutlery. And he watched you, goddess did he watch you. Was he trying to compensate for only having one eye? You would have stared back if the deadness in the blue didn’t disturb you so much. This was so unnecessarily fucking stressful.

When you both stood to go upstairs, your quiet meal finished, he stepped ahead of you, and blocked you from moving forward. Your initial first thought was  _ ‘oh, guess he’s gonna kill me for some reason,’ _ your next thought was  _ ‘Wait, no. That’d be dumb.’ _ Your third thought was  _ ‘This is weird, why are we just standing here?’ _ You doubled back around to thinking he was going to kill you again when his hand reached out towards your head. You automatically assumed he was going to break your neck, given his present track record.

But no such harm came to you. The tips of his glove had traced a portion of the ribbon, trailed your cheek, and then tilted your face upward. “Cute...” He murmured.

Your jaw loosened though the rest of you stayed perfectly still, “What’s cute?” The ribbon itself was quite cute, you’d say. It was a silky sheen in your favorite color.

“I can see your face.” His answer lacked his usual directness in his responses. He almost leaned down towards you, as his fingers stroked your cheek again. He let out a short ‘hm,’ in response to your stilted confusion, turning away as though none of that exchange had occurred.

He did not explain what he meant at a later point, and you had to act like nothing happened, no matter how much you thought about it, and how much it made your heart race.

The ribbon was forgotten for a while. You had bigger fish to fry.

Work was wretched. No matter how much material you combed through, you weren’t finding answers. It grated on you in a way that caused physical pain. Every manuscript read through without a hint towards the things you sought merely tightened the knot in your throat. Pressed for air, you decided on a change of scenery. You took a few notebooks downstairs, and you tried to do some work in the dining hall. 

Things did not get better. The knot got tighter, and the air got thinner. You slammed your purposeless book closed, and put your head in your hands, feeling a migraine coming on. The only thing more useless than all the nonsense you had dug up was you. You lost control of your temper for perhaps a split second, but that was a long enough time for you to slap the book on the table to the floor. At that point, the flood gate had opened. You lost track of how many times you slammed your fist down on the table, but when you were finished, your pinky and your wrist were terribly bruised. Great. Now your writing hand was going to be sore, possibly swollen for who knows how long. Nice fucking job, genius. You felt awful. The outburst had not eased any of your frustration. Before you could stop yourself, you had stormed upstairs, and had thrown yourself into the bed in Dimitri’s room.

Oh? A stress nap. Alright, this should be fine as long as you don’t stay in bed for two days straight.

**Oops.**

You couldn’t do it. People were dying, and you couldn’t get out of bed. You weren’t doing anything about it. What an awful person you were... You weren’t even sleeping, weren’t even resting, you just stared at the ceiling, and curled deeper and deeper into the sheets.

The morning of what would be your second day buried in blankets, you saw him lean over you with his dark stare, and eclipse the sunlight coming in through the window. “Are you ill?” He couldn’t tell with all the cloth, and your hair obscuring your face.

Still, it seemed he noticed that you had not moved for around thirty six hours. You shook your head. Your sickness of the mind was not what he was asking about. He probably thought you had a fever or something. “I know I should get up but...” You trailed off.  _ I can’t do it. _

For a brief moment, you thought you saw him frown, though it was a ‘blink and you’ll miss it,’ kind of thing. You were far too distracted by him lifting you, blanket and all into his arms. He cradled you like a bride, and walked out of the room.

“Where are we going?” Was the only thing you could think to ask in response to this. You were quite flustered. For all he knew, you could have been indecent under these sheets, and yet he had scooped you up regardless. How brazen!

“I’m bringing you to the library.” He seemed to believe you would be more inclined to work once you had gotten away from the bed.

He had assumed correctly, but carrying you all the way there was really extra! He set you down in the chair you had usually worked in when you were there, and quickly turned to leave without another word. You called a small, “Thank you, Dimitri..!” after him, unsure if he had heard it. You were cognizant of the way his touch lingered before he departed. Was he feeling touch starved? Now that you were up, what choice did you have other than to buckle down and get back to work? You may not have gotten there on your own, but you did get there, and that alone made the task of researching just a bit more feasible. 

It’s the little things that can give us hope for the bigger tasks. You were decidedly mostly on track again, though your hand still hurt a bit. You had even managed to remember to eat again! Granted, His Highness had to remind you once or twice, but like, baby steps to that emotional reset! The next step was once more taking a bath, because that is what functional adults do. And you were absolutely, at the very least, a semi-functional adult! ... If ya squinted.

You may or may not have stayed in the hot water for like... an hour, just zoning out. You just wanted to feel warm. Mission accomplished. However, you realized you were probably going to have to make dinner again, and that meant being near a fire. You’d have to get out the ribbon again, or you ran the risk of burning the uncooperative stray strands. You would rather not do that, so you tied the bow back into your hair. Your companion did not appear to you, and so you ate alone, and went upstairs for, hopefully, a good night's sleep to cap off your day of successfully taking care of yourself no matter how loudly a voice screamed in your mind that it wasn’t worth it. You were under the impression he had gone bandit hunting, which was very inline with his recent behavior. You nearly had a heart attack when you opened the door, and he was sitting at his desk... reading? Huh. Guess he still liked reading. “Oh- geez. Didn’t know where you were... Did you-”

“I already ate.” He answered before you finished, folding the corner of his page. That made sense - he wasn’t a bookmark person.

“Ah, good...” You kicked off your shoes. Was it worth putting on a nightgown? Maybe, it was, if you wanted to pretend that you had your shit together. Then again, you were being watched, which made you slightly bashful towards the prospect of changing. Lucky bastard was already in plainclothes, you on the other hand were a bit stuck.

“Are you feeling better?” You weren’t sure you heard him correctly at first. It almost sounded like he asked that with some genuine concern behind it! He had even turned in his chair to look at you.

He was referring to your mild episode from a few days back. “I think so..?” Your small improvement didn’t feel like too much. Comparatively, you were doing fucking fantastic, you just weren’t inclined to believe it was extremely substantial.

You were unsure if your response had pleased him, or troubled him. He had seemed to move on. “Come here.” He ordered.

You were shocked by the sudden authority in his voice. In the time where it was just the two of you together, he mostly just muttered, growled, grumbled. This was a clear command. You went right across the room, concerned that he really needed something.

He dispelled those concerns for the most part. When you got close enough, he reached up, and touched your face, just as he did the last time you tied your hair in the ribbon. Though this time, it was with his bare hand. “There you are...” Bare hand? Oh right. Normal clothing, not armor. Wild! “Why do you hide your face, (Y/N)?”

“I don’t like people looking at me.” You answered without thinking. It was the truth, but surely there was a more eloquent way to word it. Regardless, where on earth was this line of questioning going?

“And why is that?” His other hand reached up, resting on your waist. He was trying to pull you down towards him.

You yielded to the pull and settled yourself in his lap. Hey, you were touch starved too, and as an added bonus, this man was a walking furnace. “Because I’m a complete mess.” You could see where this was going, but you didn’t know why it was going this way.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a mess.” That was... almost a compliment! The voices must not have been pestering him too much, if he managed that shred of semi-pleasantry. That would have explained why he was doing something as calm as reading as well. Good for him. If only you felt similar...

You let out a huff, “Thanks.” You settled your head on his shoulder, trying to dodge his gaze. The shadow under his eye was not a trick of lighting. It was even more intense this close. That, and the way he was holding you was making your heart thud.

“I don't mean to stare.” His hand dragged up your side, almost absentmindedly, from your hip to your chest. Slowly, slowly, slowly. Careful with you as always. “But I do enjoy looking at you.”

Why he felt that way was beyond you... “Making up for lost time?” You quipped, wrapping your arms around him. You couldn’t help it. You just wanted to feel close to him, like you used to be. When you were younger you two hardly used to take your eyes off each other. You didn’t know when you became so afraid of being seen.

“Something like that.” He sighed into your hair before planting a kiss on the top of your head.

You snapped up in moderate surprise at the softness of his gesture, only for him to catch your lips this time. He swallowed your groan of surprise, grasping at the fabric of your shirt and pulling you in even closer with one fist. The other kept you from pulling away by rooting itself in your hair. You closed your eyes and let him. You did not pull away. You just wanted to know  _ why _ ...

Why was he undoing your blouse? Why was he stroking your thigh? Why had he pried your lips open with his tongue? You understood what he was trying to do. You weren’t naive. But  _ you. _ Why was it  _ you _ ..? 

You were running out of breath. He must have been able to tell with the sad little grunt you made into him when his hand finally crept up to your underclothing. He let your lips part from his, but he did not release you fully. He still gripped your thigh and your hair, keeping you in place so that he could study you. “Should I stop..?”

“Please...” You imagined how disastrous you must have appeared, panting and red, your shirt slouching off of your body, exposing you for this man to see. How indecent you must have seemed. Weren’t you supposed to be a ' lady,’ at all times? “... Don’t stop...” Lecherous were you? Shameful for a lady... Oh, how warm he was, how secure he held you. You leaned in to kiss him again, before he could get skeptical, misjudge your blush as a negative. For the first time in ages you were starting to feel good again - a consequence in the rise of dopamine? That was likely. Good, you needed it. He pulled your blouse off your shoulders, and you curled even closer into him. Even this close, as things got heavier, you didn’t need him ogling that much. No thank you. Unintentionally, this pressed your partially exposed chest into him. Not much of a net positive for how flustered you were.

The hand under your skirt teased you through what little cloth was still between you. He had been with other women before, hadn’t he? How else would he have known to touch you like that? It wasn’t something a sweet prince would have known to do. That just wasn’t fair... You know you couldn’t have him to yourself. Someone like you? It just wasn’t meant to be, you knew, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Whatever, you had him tonight, and that would soften the blow just enough. He rid you of your brassier while you squared your hips to his. It seemed you were both wanting, and getting rather impatient. Undressing you had excited him. He groaned into you as you played with his hair and he continued to feel you up. It felt like he had said your name, but, too caught up in your closeness, had forgotten to break away.

Then again you might have been getting ahead of yourself. It probably wasn’t you specifically that aroused him, rather the sensations you were causing did. Simply a natural physiological response. Without much warning, he picked you up and brought you over to the bed. He needed to grab something else so that he didn’t accidentally shatter any of your bones.

It was much appreciated. You could at least recognize that despite your other issues with yourself, your skeleton was just fine the way it was, and you liked your bones in their current configuration.

He held your arms down for a moment, not letting you cover up for the moments before he got on top of you. He was looking you up and down again. Before you could shift uncomfortably from it, he leaned his head into the crook of your neck. “I missed you...” He whispered, letting go of you.

Those words made your heart skip a beat. His voice was so soft, it made you weak. You let him finish stripping away your remaining clothing without the slightest hesitation. You let him in, and you held him close as he moved in and out. You missed him too. You had been in each other’s company for weeks, just the two of you. But those words meant something else to both of you. To be wrapped in the arms of the other again was a miracle. 

He was as good as dead to the world. You were so happy that he was alive, and with you now. All this time, he was distant, scowling. Not now though, not now. You were so afraid that if you let go of him, he would disappear. You leaving claw marks was going to be a fair trade for the bite marks he was leaving on you.

And when you were both done, you did not pull away. How happy you two were to feel and see this closeness with another person so dear to you. It wasn’t a fix for things, but it was still pretty nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mother of pearl, this took fucking forever!!! There was a part of me that wanted to have a chunk where reader yelled ‘i wanna fuckin’ die bro,’ and Dimitri went ‘same.’ as an homage to one of the greatest vines of all time but I couldn’t really justify that because 1. I ain’t trivializing and joking about a serious mental illness that me and millions of others suffer from - the vine is a solid goof, but this isn’t really the platform for it. I can do that on my own, but I morally don’t think it is my place to pull that in front of an audience who may become upset or hurt by that. 2. Like, tonally, dude. Where the fuck would I put that in?  
> Now, if you lovely folk will excuse me, I’m gonna go bless the pipes in my dorm’s bathroom so that I might bathe in holy water to rid myself of this SIN. I hope this met your request, Gwen!
> 
> Y'all know the deal.


	12. WHOA THERE BUDDY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request for ssiyckitten. We’re jumpin’ back to that link between Chapter 4 and 5 of Gratuitous. The full title of this one is ‘WHOA THERE BUDDY PAL, MY DUDE, MY GUY, MY FRIEND, YOU MIGHT WANNA SLOW DOWN THERE BUCKAROO’ Our dear feral man is DTF, and our leading lady reminds him that sex workers exist. Haha, yes, Comedy!

_ He sat and watched you in silence for a moment, studying you, trying to dig up false intention. You were trying not to squirm under his glare. Mercifully, he finally answered you. “Sleep with me.” _

_ “I already sleep in your bed.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew horrifically well that was not even remotely what he was implying. The innocence that your response was loaded with made the prince express something outside of indifference or anger. He looked shocked. Dropping dead was a preferred alternative to him continuing to look at you. “Oh Good Goddess, that’s not what you mean at all.” _

_ The prince collected himself much sooner than you did. “I mean in the sense that I-” _

_ You cut him off immediately, your face getting redder and redder by the second, “Yeah- no, don’t worry I know- I know what you mean.” You reached up to your own face and pinched your cheek. Unfortunately this was not a dream. He wanted to fuck. He wanted to fuck you. What fucking planet were you on? What was this? How could this be the reality you were in? _ Good fucking Goddess, Dimitri! Who asks that of someone?! “I’m not giving you a ‘no,’ yet, but... Can’t you just like- like, go to a call girl in town or something?” You were genuinely surprised you got that out with minimal stammering. You had done a remarkably good job at not immediately losing your shit. It could still happen though, could still happen... You never know.

He looked... annoyed. Not necessarily at you, and disregarding the fact that he had a supreme resting bitch face. “I’m not going to a night walker, I don’t have any money.” He scoffed.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t have any money?’” You shot back, extremely grateful for a subject change before things got even more awkward than they already were.

You watched his jaw clench, his eye narrow, frustrated, but again not necessarily at you. This was all followed by an extremely heavy sigh. “I have either been on the streets, or in the woods for over four years. I’m also constantly being hunted by my enemies.” He crossed his arms, “Where exactly am I meant to find stable employment?”

Shit, he’s got you there. Awfully difficult to hire a wanted man, you supposed. But if he didn’t have any cash on him, why did he go you into town the other day then, unless- “Hey, wait a minute!” You put your hands on your hips, “Were you expecting me to pay for those vulneraries if the doctor didn’t give them to you for free?”

“I was under the impression that it would have been fair.” There was a hint of a shrug somewhere.

“Fair?”

“I take care of the rats who would do you harm, and stand guard when you rest, while you pay for our supplies. Does that not sound fair to you?”

You gave him a non-committal hand wobble, accompanied by an “Ehhh,” He had a point there... You paused for a moment, realizing how much this was reminding you of your parents. Without much thought, you murmured, “Good Goddess, we sound like a married couple...”

“This is pointless.” Dimitri let out an annoyed huff. “I will not force you to do anything, but I want a ‘yes or no,’ answer.”

The blush on your face must have been furious. “... If I gave you money would that be okay..?”

“I’m suddenly concerned by the fact that you don’t seem to understand what a ‘yes or no,’ question is.” You would have dropped your jaw at the absolute savage burn you had just been dealt, had he not continued to speak. “I have no desire to be with a random woman. I am asking you.”

“Well- well then!” Asking, not ordering. Very reassuring. Also him asking you implied that he was attracted to you, and the way your heart was suddenly smashing into your ribcage was making it really difficult to think all of the sudden. And you were still getting over the slight he had dished out! Rude as hell, frankly, putting you through this whiplash of feelings. Your face contorted into a pout, though you were still as red as it got. “... Take a bath first and maybe I’ll think about it...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is on the shorter end, but you know, it be like that sometimes. This is just for goofs, after all. The next few requests I've got will most likely be longer than this one by a bit. Regardless, I hope this one suffices, and is at the least enjoyable ^_^
> 
> Y'all know how it be.


	13. Mutual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from quarterquirks. Some pre-time skip pining from either of them, yeehaw, so I said to myself WHY NOT BOTH?! IT’S MUTUAL PINING BAY-BEE!

There is a moment when one knows that they are, without a shadow of a doubt, totally, completely, and irrevocably fucked. You and His Highness just happened to come to the conclusion at slightly different times.

Oh, how close you two were. Just the best of friends. You would eat together, do paper work together, go to the town market together, go for walks just so you could chat together. Usually arm in arm, just so you wouldn’t lose each other in any crowds. Together. Together. Together. Almost always. Not that you two precious little things were aware of it, but there were a few rumors floating around regarding what your relationship to each other was. The teaching assistant commoner, and the crown prince house leader? You would have made star-crossed lovers in any opera. That was such juicy gossip! Though, many took care to make sure neither of you ever heard anything about that... Could you imagine the heartbreak that would occur if either of you became aware of what you two were - and then realized your stations would keep you apart for all of eternity?!

 _Oh no._ Was what went through your brain when that exact thought hit you one day. It shouldn’t have happened. You were just doing exactly what you had always done - why did you have to think about it? Why did you have to ruin what you had for yourself?! You were having tea. You two always had tea together! The only thing you were more cognisant of this time was that he was a bit sad. Something about his last mission had troubled him greatly, and you were just trying to cheer him up. Sitting on the same side of the table, you watched him stare absentmindedly down at his chamomile, the steam rising from the cup much more interesting than his surroundings, it seemed. The melancholia consumed the entire atmosphere.

“I don’t trust stairs. Because they’re all up to something.” You said quietly. 

He loved really bad jokes, didn’t he? He perked up from his tea cup. He gave you a raise of his brow, uncertain of what that was supposed to mean.

You wracked your brain for another awful pun Alois had wasted on you, “Wouldn’t getting the ability to fly be so uplifting?”

He snorted, trying to hide it behind a cough, “What are you-”

You needed more of a reaction than that! “What did the librarian say when the books were a mess? We oughta be ashamed of our shelves!” 

Your internal cringe from everything coming out of your mouth was well worth the pain. His stifled chuckles had shifted into full on laughter. He practically knocked his head back.

You were ready now, your critical strike! The worst one you had up your sleeves! “Why was the tomato blushing? It saw the salad dressing!”

“P-Please stop..!” The poor prince was hardly able to breath through his laughter. It had been ages since he had been reduced to wheezing like this. He had slouched over, leaning towards you, a hand on your shoulder. “These are awful (Y/N), please!”

And it was in that moment that you got hit with the dreaded _oh no._ He was holding onto you, not too tightly, because if he did, you would have some broken bones. And his face was very close to yours, his smile absolutely beaming. What a handsome face it was... That well defined jaw, and those sky blue eyes. Being so aesthetically pleasing should have already been illegal - and he was such a gentleman too! What a double threat... and again he was very, very, very close to you now. All you would have had to do was tilt your head up, and you could have kissed him.

And you almost fucking did it. Almost. You didn’t. You did not look up any further. You couldn’t do that. You don’t know why you couldn’t, not in that moment anyway. You let him finally get a hold of himself, you let him keep grinning at you, and you tried to brush off the sudden warmth in your cheeks. You two continued with your day - calmly as ever.

When you went to bed that evening, you stared up at the ceiling in your room, and you asked yourself _WHERE THE HOLY FUCK DID THAT COME FROM?_ Kiss the prince??? Bitch, what? WHAT?! Since when had you ever thought about doing ANY like that with him? Your friend? Smooch friend?! What the fuck?! So what if he was probably the sweetest boy you had ever met in your entire life? Just because he escorted you by the arm everywhere you went, and would pick flowers for you in the gardens, and was happy to listen to you tell stories, didn’t mean you could have feelings for him. No, no you couldn’t like him. You were almost like co-workers, in terms of your environmental standing with each other. That was kinda weird, to be honest. And even if you moved past that, how were you supposed to be together after this school year? Didn’t he have to go back to Fhirdiad? He had a throne to take, meaning he didn’t have the time for a little common girl like you.

You tried not to let the thought trouble you with each new bundle of flowers he would give you. You tried to ignore the knot your stomach tied itself in when he smiled at you. You tried to pretend your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest whenever he led you by the arm. It was all damn near impossible. But you never said a thing. You grinned and bore with it, just trying to keep him company no matter how it made your heart ache.

He also had an _oh no_ moment. This sorrow was not exclusive to you by any means. His circumstances for this realization were the slightest bit more dire than yours were. He might have been a bit poisoned at the time. Well, not _might._ He was. No one was sure of where the group of bandits the class had been dealing with got a venin bow, but they had it, and they shot Dimitri.

All things considered, the situation could have been a lot worse. He was mostly conscious, the arrow hadn’t gone too deep, and it did not hit anything particularly vital - Mercedes had even dealt with the initial wound. Still the fever it inspired in his bloodstream was making him a tad too woozy to not want to at least rest. It was probably going to be fine. The Blue Lions were on their way back to the monastery anyway. He was going to be able to sleep this off, and he was going to alright.

And then, less than half a mile from Garreg Mach, he fell off his horse.

He heard a good deal of worry and commotion. Annette and Mercedes could keep him alive, but with a possible head injury he was going to need more scientific scrutiny. Dedue had picked him up, the Professor had ordered Ingrid and Sylvain ahead to tell Manuela what was going on. Felix reminded him, possibly accompanied by a roll of his eyes, that the Black Eagles were on their own mission, and chances are they weren’t back yet. Ashe suggested fetching you instead.

The Prince stirred a bit, slurring to them that this was hardly necessary, surely Lady (Y/N) was asleep by now, and it would be terribly rude to wake you. But he was ignored, possibly because none of that came out as a fully coherent sentence. He didn’t know. It was difficult to hear himself over the ringing in his ears.

He felt Dedue shift him around as he was taken up several flights of stairs. The next thing he heard properly was your voice, “Thank you, Dedue. This bed should do for now.” Ah, a cool pillow. Sweet relief from his feverish temperature. “I can take care of him from here. Please, get some rest.”

“Lady (Y/N), I ask that you come get me if his condition worsens.” Dedue requested of you. Dimitri wished his friend wouldn’t fret so much, especially at the expense of sleep.

“Of course.” You assured him in that soft, genuine tone of yours. It was always comforting to hear. He felt you place a cold compress to his forehead, “But, I promise, he’ll be alright.”

Hearing that from you was making him feel better already, that, and you were brushing his hair out of his face. He had never felt such gentleness. A few minutes after Dedue left, Dimitri finally opened his eyes. He groaned at the searing lantern light. Even something so dim was painful. He didn’t think he fell on his head, but so far this wasn’t pointing in his favor. “You don’t think I’ve worried everyone, do you..?”

You looked surprised at first, then terribly concerned. Oh dear, that was a bit of an upsetting expression. But you quickly shifted to relief, thank goodness. “How are you feeling, Your Highness?”

“I feel a migraine coming on, but I don’t know for certain if that’s related to falling, or the one I usually get.” 

“Do you know what year it is?” You asked him, studying him closely.

“1181 on the Imperial Calendar.” He could not help but notice that you were tending to him in your nightgown. Oh. Oh dear, how cute. It made his heart skip a beat.

You nodded, accepting his answer. “Well, the good news is, you probably don’t have a concussion.”

“Good. That would certainly get in the way.” The only thing trumping the nervousness of seeing you like this was that he felt bad at you waking up to deal with him. He managed to sit himself upright, which you didn’t object to.

“I do need to take a look at the arrow wound though, especially if whatever was on it knocked you out. Where did it hit you?” You shifted to sit on the edge of your bed, suppressing a yawn.

“My left shoulder.” He gestured to the small splice in the cloth, coated with dried blood.

“Well then.” You let out a brief huff of air, almost seeming a bit bashful all of the sudden. “... Could you take your jacket off?”

He wasn’t the best for picking on such social queues,“Oh, of course.” He unclipped his shoulder cape, his sheath, and finally unbuttoned his coat. He let the sleeves shrug off his arm, and you helped him tug the rest off.

Was it a trick of the lighting, or were you getting red? “I need you to take the undershirt off too.”

There was something almost scandalous about it, he thought, as he took that layer away. Regardless of the circumstances, he technically partially undressed before a lady. It almost flustered him. However, you were busy being more medical about this whole thing. You kept your pleasantly warm hands to the area of concern. It was black and blue.

“Mercedes did a great job...” You mumbled, pulling his arm around to check the range of motion he still had. “Any pain?”

He waited for a moment to give his answer, just so you would hold onto him for just a little while longer. “It aches a bit, but that seems to be all.” It was odd behavior for him. He’d never done anything like that. He just enjoyed your presence far too much. _He adored you._

“Well that’s another good sign. I think you’ll recover by the morning!”

 _Oh no._ Irresponsible. That was what he was being. It was like wanting to see his classmates again down the line. Misplaced feelings. Thoughts he should not have been thinking. He shouldn’t have been giving you flowers, and he shouldn’t have tried to get you to touch him constantly - and he needed to stop eye-ing you in your current dress. It was just indecent of him. And it wouldn’t be fair to you when he had to go back to Fhirdiad.

But no he couldn’t just avoid you, full stop. You were friends. He wouldn’t be able to bear hurting your feelings like that. He just wouldn’t say a thing. And he would stay by your side for as long as he still could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HooWee! Well this one was pretty fun to write! Thank you for the request!
> 
> Ya'll know how we do round' here, you want something, just ask!


	14. Little Ones II: ELectric Boogaloo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from uobasu, honoring the memory of someone who deserved better, through new life.

The mausoleum was an aesthetically lovely place, for what it was. Hundreds of bodies of great men and women lay there for all eternity. As beautiful as it was, it struck an intense fear into you. The entire Hresvelg line, all in one place. It terrified you. All their history, all they did, all they made. It was in this massive tomb. Dead with them. Even her. Her war was over, and she was finally at rest with all who came before.

You and Dimitri always made this visit whenever you made a trip to Enbarr. It was part of a large deal of reconciliation, for the people, and for the king. He would leave a bouquet of carnations, ones he had tended to himself, as he recalled from their youth that they were her favorite. Lambert and Aria never came with you to this hallowed place. Never. They were hidden in Fraldarius territory, safe, in case a new tragedy should occur. It was very much up in the air whether you should have even come along for this pilgrimage, considering that your third child was to be born soon. You could never be certain how the former imperial people would interpret the presence of the royal family...

But like hell you would leave your husband's side when he needed you most. Before his marriage to you, Edelgard had been the only family Dimitri had left. And now she was gone by his own hand. He had lost everything, and everyone. He had a new family to love and care for, and many friends who adored him, and stood by his side - but it could not replace all that had been taken away from him. You would be there for him, and you would help him process his grief, finally.

Tears slid down his face as he laid his flowers before her resting place, but not a single sound would escape him as he bowed his head, and prayed she was at peace. By the goddess, you hoped she was at rest. You and your dearest were building a world that would defend those who could not defend themselves - it was not too dissimilar from what she sought to create. May that ease her soul. 

When he was done, he would turn to you, saddened. He was never quite sure what to do next. You would wipe away his tears, take his hand within your own, and you would lead him out of the Hresvelg Tomb. You would not let him look back, lest her visage stay and haunt him like all the rest did. This is where a dynasty would sleep for all eternity. No place for the living to linger. 

He would become a bit withdrawn after such visits, though with each one, he would grow less, and less sorrowful. He would always perk up at the prospect of returning to his sweet, little children. His brave, kindly little boy, and his beautiful, serene daughter.

Perhaps having him consider the third would coax him away from his melancholia sooner? You sat beside him in your carriage, so that you could hold him closely, and remind him that he was alive. “What do you want to name her..?” You asked, holding your distended stomach with one hand, and his arm with the other.

He looked at you, slightly bemused, “How can you be so certain that it’s a girl?”

“She doesn’t kick as much as Lambert did, much less fussy, I suppose.” You shrugged, before asking again, “Do you have any ideas for a name?”

He leaned his head back and closed his eye. “Hmm... well, nothing is coming to mind right now.”

“If I’m right about it being a girl...” Might as well ask him now then... “Do you want to name her after... Edelgard.” You didn’t mean to pause before saying her name. You don’t know why it happened - you certainly weren’t speaking ill of the dead, you were attempting to honor her...

“My beloved, it would be a touching tribute for you to allow such a thing,” Dimitri put a hand over his heart, a reminder that he was still alive, and he opened his eye, looking at you positively heartbroken, “But I am not so certain that is something we can do that without it being seen as... almost an insult.”

“What do you mean?” Family was the most important thing in the world to him. His family was what kept him sane, kept him standing as he assumed control over the entire continent. You were wondering if you could pay the last of his first family the respect they were due, for all that they meant to him. “She was your sister.”

“Adrestia has only recently been fully subdued...” He curled an arm around you, bringing you into a close lean. Your closeness always brought him ease and comfort. “To name our next child after their last ruler... Some may see that as a mockery... A reminder that I...”

“Alright.” You didn’t need to hear him say that he had killed her. You knew. You were there. “We’ll think of something...”

He cheered right back up when he saw his little ones again. 

Dedue had assisted your son out of the carriage he had taken back from the Fraldarius Manor. Lambert had insisted on carrying Aria up to you. But just a few meters before he got to you, he put her down, and took her hand. He had set her on her feet. Leaning on her older brother, your baby girl took the last few shaky steps into her father’s arms, yelling out a shrill, “Papa!”

Neither of you had seen her walk before. You thought Dimitri was going to start crying again with that. He loved his children. He loved them more than anything else in the world. He scooped both of his dear babies up in his arms, to their squeals of delight, planting a kiss in the hair of both of them.

Dimitri handed your daughter to you - she was still light enough for you to carry under your current circumstances. “Has your big brother been teaching you how to walk, my little princess?” You asked as she nuzzled into you.

“Lambert, did you behave yourself for Felix and Annette?” Your husband began to interview your son.

“I only broke one sword this time!” He exclaimed, beaming with pride. Down from the three he snapped in half last time he visited. You usually let Dimitri handle the crest talk. He was the only person who could really relate to having super strength at the age of six. “And I didn’t crush any soup spoons either!”

“That’s very good to hear.” He shifted the boy so that he sat on his shoulders, “Did you see Aria’s first steps?”

“Uh-huh.” The prince nodded. “She kept getting upset whenever I left the room, so I got her to stand up and see if she’d try and follow me.”

You could hardly suppress an, “Awww,” as you threaded your fingers through your daughter’s beautiful raven locks. “You love your big brother, don’t you?”

She responded to you with a giggle, “Lammy!” Her brother’s name had been her first word. Once more, you were grateful that your foul mouth hadn’t influenced them yet. Your fingers were always crossed that Lambert would inherit his father’s refined speech pattern, as opposed to your rapid switches between formality and casualness, coupled with a sailor's tongue. Here’s to hoping...

“They didn’t give you any trouble on the way home, did they, Dedue?” You asked your old friend.

“His Highness was a great help, I assure you.” The retainer shook his head with a smile. “Whenever Her Highness became distressed, the prince was quick to step in and calm her.”

How lucky you were, that your sweet little prince was an angel...

A few weeks later, kid number three almost killed you. Once more, childbirth proceeded to be a hellish experience, and you were frankly done with it after this child, you were certain. You hadn’t screamed in agony as much as you did over Lambert, but by the Goddess it was still unfathomably unpleasant.

As before, your dear husband cradled the baby while every doctor the palace had so spare made sure you weren’t fucking dead. Good news, you weren’t, congrats! “You were right, (Y/N).” He meant that it was a girl.

You gave him a weak thumbs up.  _ Fuckin’ called it..! _

“What is her name going to be, Father?” Lambert asked, tugging at Dimitri’s sleeves until he leaned down until the boy could see the bundle in his arms. Ah. That was a problematic question, mostly on account of the fact that the royal couple did not have the time to brainstorm more names together. There had only been one name on the table, one that had already been ruled out. The child’s name was effectively in limbo, and had been this entire time. 

“El.” He answered quietly, looking to you for approval. “We could call her ‘El,’”

You blinked at him. Where had you heard that name before? You wracked your brain for stories and conversations where this could have come up.

_ ‘... She only ever let people close to her call her that. Other people got to call her Edie - but my father and I called her-’ _

Oh. He had taken your suggestion to heart it seemed. “That’s a wonderful name...” You smiled at him.

Princess El. ‘Ellie’ to her family. No one would know who her namesake was, but perhaps it was for the best. Dimitri could at least honor her in this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all thought I misspelled the title, didn't you?  
> Dimitri is a very good dad, I’m telling you. Insys let him be a dad please I will give you anything-
> 
> \- As per usual, if you want something, just let me know!


	15. A Family Matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from anony - how does big bro Felix feel about his darling little sibling’s affections towards one very rude feral man?

Contrary to what everyone who had ever met him would say, Felix Hugo Fraldarius was actually a man of damn near infinite patience. He regularly prevented mass-ass kickings on a daily basis through sheer self control alone. But that damn boar was testing that patience as it had never been tested before. He certainly wasn’t a fucking king at the moment, so who did he think he was? Scoffing at people, shoving others, lacking any and all human empathy... He was being a bastard, through and through.

Dimitri’s only saving grace at the moment, and the only reason Felix had yet to gut him for being a complete and utter dick to everyone around him, was the fact that he was not being a dick to his darling baby sister.  _ You _ . 

Oh, the three Fraldarius children had the oddest dynamics with that creature. The Young Knight has died for him. The Shield’s Successor, a name he despised the weight of, would fight for him no matter how much he hated him. And then... The Crestless Angel - You may have been the only one to remind him that he was a person, long before this mess started.

Glenn... he once joked that you liked The Prince so much you were probably going to marry him. The old man had teased that it was a possibility. Felix used to be so excited at the prospect of you marrying into the royal family. Then he could have called Dimitri his brother for real. But after Duscur...rather, after the western rebellion, he had wanted that beast as far away from his family as possible. The way that monster in the form of a man kissed the back of your hand when he saw you again at the academy had gone from a small joy, to making bile rise to Felix’s mouth. You trailed after him like a spaniel pup, loyal and happy to a fault.

The Boar had his one remaining sibling completely fooled. But not him. He never did anything back then though, not unless he thought it would break your heart if he didn’t intervene. He didn’t think he’d be able to bear seeing you upset. Couple it all with the fact that the damned creature still looked like someone he called a friend once. Watching the two of you share a dance at the ball may have been the last time he saw Dimitri smile, and mean it. You looked happy too. You hadn’t stopped trying to be cheerful, but it seemed to tax you more after Glenn... How could he have done anything without taking that joy from you? Sometimes he wished that he tried to get you to stop caring, maybe then he wouldn’t be watching this agonizing display.

You were the only person that beast didn’t snap at reflexively. He let you get closer, stay longer than anyone else. He might have even been attached to you. A few weeks prior, you had gotten sick and were ordered bed rest. Guess who checked up on you everyday? He’d wait outside the door, like a sentry, and when some medic passed by he’d ask, almost with a hint of politeness behind it, “Could you tell me how she is feeling?”  _ Literally _ , you just had a fever. When they told him he could come in and see you, his posture might have corrected itself for the first time in five years, like he wanted to make a good impression or something. 

It made Felix want to fucking puke. When you had offhand mentioned that you were bored, being stuck in one spot, that thing came back a few hours hours later with a copy of  _ Loog and the Maiden of Wind  _ that he (probably) coerced from Ashe. He mumbled something about you liking it as a kid. Of course you fucking liked that stupid chivalry propaganda! Your big brothers used to read it to you before you could read it yourself. Had The Boar been expecting brownie points for this?

Hell, one time you had brought a tea tray into the cathedral, and it seemed like he actually had a cup with you. People could hardly believe it. Allegedly, later that day The Professor had tried to get the beast to eat with him, which resulted in two different dinner plates getting spiked into a wall.  _ Allegedly _ . Felix didn’t have enough information to confirm or deny it, though he’d be hard pressed not to believe it, if you, 90% of the creature’s impulse control, were not with him. With that ‘favoritism,’ if one could even call it that, you were the one who The Boar Prince let tend to him medically without growling like an animal. Given that the two of you had been in the monastery alone for some time, there was a level of trust that was absent for the rest of the Kingdom Resistance.

Right now he was in rough shape. He had taken a hit that was meant for Felix, an attempted assassination from an imperial spy meant to destabilize the troops. Whatever that knife had on it wasn’t natural. It would have killed Felix, that much was certain. He was able to recall, around five years ago, a conversation he had with The Professor. It was back when there were rumors of an assassin floating around the monastery. Felix had been intrigued by the prospect of a fight. Byleth had said that he wanted to avoid bloodshed. To which the lordling replied, “You’re entitled to your opinion.” Felix had since spontaneously revised his own thoughts on the matter. 

No one had quite grasped what had happened until Dimitri tore off his gauntlet once the assailant's body hit the ground. “Felix- did it hit you?” The Boar had asked with a sudden urgency in his voice.

“What do you care?” He mostly scoffed in reply, unaware of the gravity of the situation. Not until he saw the small slices on the creature’s hand, cut through the chinks in the armor when he grabbed the blade, saving Felix from a sudden death. The blood surrounding the wounds was not red. It was purple. 

“It was poisoned.” The Boar said through grit teeth. Something was wrong. He wasn’t able to hide the pain he was in. He could fight off most poisons easily - it was one of the few things his monstrous strength was good for. There was an extremely faint hiss emanating from the wound - like a simmering oil in a pan. What the hell was on that knife?

_ Fuck. _ “We need a medic!” Felix yelled, unleashing an absolute whirlwind of chaos. The Boar was growing paler by the second until his skin was almost ashen. He practically collapsed into Felix. The soldiers nearby were functionally useless, because they didn’t know any magic and were standing by nervously, or were freaking out over their leader struggling to breath. Not exactly professional, by any means.

“What the hell happened?!” Of course you were the first healer to get there. Not Mercedes, not Manuela. It had to be you. For that animal’s sake, it was probably for the best. Pained as he was, there was still a possibility he would have snapped at anyone else trying to help him. 

Felix had intended on relaying the information about the dagger, but you used context clues to put shit together. The Boar was missing a gauntlet, his blood was the wrong color, and there was a dead assassin on the ground. He was glad you were still sharp as a tack. Your brother did the best he could to keep the man still while you attempted to use your magic to draw the poisoned blood out. It was easier said than done - even like this he had the power of a monster. Every twitch of pain had the potential to turn into a thrash capable of knocking Felix out.

“Dimitri?” You called out to him, pausing in your work.

It stilled the beast for a moment. “... (Y/N)..?” 

It surprised Felix just how much your voice eased him. The bastard stopped twitching like a cornered animal.

You appeared to have done all you could in removing most of the substance, but you still kept whispering to him. “Goddess, you’re burning up...” You muttered, holding a hand to his forehead. “Listen, you need to stay awake for me, okay?”

“... Alright.”

_ ‘Alright?’ ALRIGHT. _ The motherfucker was agreeing with you? What did he usually say to the professor? ‘I’ll comply.’ That cold, mechanical tone - he didn’t take it with you.

“Fe?” You turned to him.

“Yeah?” Your big brother snapped back to attention. He had been lost in thought about how... not... good... he felt about that whole exchange. It kinda... put him in a mood where he wanted to punch the next man he made eye contact with. Weird. Where’d that come from?

“Bring him up to his room. I need to go make an antidote for this.” You ordered, picking up the coated knife with a surgical caution.

He did as you said. You weren’t asking him, you were telling him. No room for arguments. Well, you were the medic, afterall. It made his throat knot up regardless. You used to be such a sweet kid... That was another weird thing, honestly. You were only two years younger than Felix - but he couldn’t help but baby you. You used to be so shy, and you would always hide behind your big brothers, and you would have never barked orders at anyone... This war had changed you, and he hated it. At least you still smiled. Not as much as you used to, but he was always so grateful to see it.

He expected it, really, but it still bothered Felix terribly that you basically became The Boar’s personal nurse. You essentially were already, but having you stay by him every night was... egregious. 

He made a concerted effort to stay out of the room. He just... didn’t want to see Dimitri like that... It was bad enough that he was practically deranged, but at this point Felix was used to that. It annoyed him more than anything. No, it was seeing him in such a fragile state that was disturbing. The thing could hardly breath in and out, bedridden, corpse like. But that didn’t mean your brother wasn’t around. He lurked in the hallway most of the time, absolutely refusing to leave you unattended for long. You know, just in case you wanted to take a break and go to sleep, or get some food, or that fucking animal tried anything.

You held vigil by his side, keeping cold cloth to his head to keep his fever down, helping him eat and drink what little he could keep down. He seemed adamant about one thing, dazed as he was. Felix had caught the conversation as he held his own position from the hall.

“... Don’t...” The Boar told you with a hoarse grunt.

“‘Don’t’ what?” You asked from your chair at his bedside.

“Your hand...” His head listed to the side. He was trying to look at you, it seemed. “I don’t want to break it...”

Much to your brother’s irritation, you were holding onto the damn thing’s fingers. You snorted. “I don’t think you’ll do that to me.”

He better not, or Felix would tear him limb from limb.

“Why don’t you hold onto my sleeve instead?” You had suggested. “I want you to be holding on to someone so you don’t think you’re alone like this.”

As far as Felix could tell, you thought it was best that he had someone alive near him, because The Boar’s psychosis could make him hurt himself with the way he was. The Resistance didn’t need their sovereign clawing his throat out in a fit of fear caused by the long dead. You were giving him something to hold onto.

Days passed, and by some miracle, that beast wasn’t dead. You were doing a great job, but you just couldn’t manage to wrangle his fever. Some days he was much more stable than others - though the concept of stability was extremely relative for this creature. ‘Stable’ as in some days he was able to sit up in bed. Other days there were a few bishops from the church floating around in case a last rite would be needed. Most of the time it was in between. He was going to live, but his delirium was difficult to deal with - on top of his already present insanity. If you weren’t going to be canonized as a saint for putting up with this, Felix was going to throw hands.

Your brother was getting ready to go to bed one night, and had let his hair down to brush it out before he decided to go in and check on you. You were dozing up right in a chair next to The Boar’s bed, your feet propped on the mattress. Your brothers both did that in the past when you were sick as a kid. You even had your arms crossed. It made Felix wonder if the old man would mimic such a behavior. It might have been a Fraldarius thing. 

He went back to his room to get you a blanket, knowing how cold the monastery could get at night. He wrapped it over your shoulders, careful not to wake you. Sothis and Seiros knew you needed rest. Felix couldn’t help but sigh. You shouldn’t be dealing with this bullshit. You deserved so much better than this mess.

“Glenn..?” Felix nearly jumped out of his skin, snapping to guard, before realizing who was there. The Boar stared back at him from the bed, his eye wide, a tremble running through him. “Glenn please... I’m so sorry...”

The lordling had to leave your side and go try and keep that pathetic creature from struggling to sit up. He needed to rest, or he’d stay like this until he finally croaked - or worse, he’d make so much noise that you would wake up. Felix couldn’t hide the scowl and irritation on his face. He didn’t even know what he was apologizing to his dead brother for...

“Please don’t look at me like that. As soon as I recover I swear I’ll... Please, Glenn-”

Felix could feel the bile rising in his throat. Dimitri thought that he was...  _ Glenn _ . Glenn wasn’t there. He hadn’t been there for a long, long time - but it would have been much easier if he was. Glenn was smart, strong - and he wasn’t a fucking lunatic... He looked down at the sorry excuse of a human, clinging to his wrist like his life depended on it, begging for forgiveness from the visage of a dead man. 

_ It should have been him. _ Felix paused at the thought. No, no, no, no, no, no. He didn’t mean that. He might have hated what the man became, but he didn’t mean that. He couldn’t have meant that. He missed his brother, more than anything. He would have traded places with the late knight any day - but he knew he couldn’t justify trading anyone else's life the same way. Certainly not... not someone who used to be his best friend. Not someone he thought of as family.

“I’m not Glenn.” He grumbled. He was trying to be nice, for once. But that wasn’t exactly his strong suit. Then again, it was never Glenn’s either. You were the nicest of the three, by a wide margin. “It’s Felix.” His saintly patience was kicking in again. He’d give The Boar the benefit of the doubt. It was dark. He was sick. The Fraldarius had his hair the same way his dead brother wore it. That same dead brother who this creature saw die. Understandable mistake, right?

“Fe?” You stirred slightly.  _ Fuck. _ That’s exactly what he didn’t want to happen right now.

“Felix..?” The Boar fought through a wheeze, a new pale washing over his suddenly concerned face. “Glenn, where’s Felix? Is he hurt?”

“Oh Goddess...” You blinked yourself awake, and got between your brother and the prince. “Dimitri, go back to sleep, it’s alright...”

“(Y/N)...” The animal finally stopped shaking when he saw you, his favorite familiarity. “Where is Felix?”

The frown on your face tore your brother’s heart in half. “He’s right here.”

“That’s not Felix, that’s...” The Boar paused as he narrowed his eye, adjusting to the lighting. “Felix... Are you alright..?”

Oh good, that damn beast had figured out which Fraldarius son he was speaking to. “I’m fine.” He didn’t feel fine, and the longer he stayed in this room, the less fine he probably looked too. His fist was clenched, his nails digging into his palm, trying to keep it collected. This was hell. This was his own personal circle of hell.

“Good... I...” The Boar closed his eye, sighing in relief. “I’m glad you’re okay...”

“You need to sleep, Dima...” You told him softly, brushing hair from his face. There was the faintest amount of white light underneath your fingertips. You were trying to put him into a magic induced rest.

Felix spun on his heels and he left the room. He was going to be sick. He was going to be fucking sick. The beast had been worried about him? And don’t even get him started on how you were speaking to him. _ Dima. _ That thing wasn’t  _ Dima. _ No, no that kid had died in Duscur with Glenn. Why was he the only person in this damn family who understood that?

After settling the prince, you took off after Felix. “Hey, you good?” You put your hand on your brother’s shoulder.

“How can you stand being around him?” He would have shrugged off anyone else. But you were one of the only people on the planet he could tolerate. It didn’t mean he could contain all his frustrations though. “How can you even look at him when he’s like that?!”

“Felix, I’m not going to turn a blind to anyone who needs help. And I’m definitely not going to turn my back on Dimitri-”

“That thing isn’t Dimitri!” He didn’t mean to snap at you. He really didn’t, but he kept going. “Don’t you and the old man get it?! Dimitri is dead! He’s been dead for nine fucking years!”

“... Take that back.” You took a very slow deep breath. He could tell you were gnawing on the inside of your cheek, trying to keep it together. He knew he fucked up. He fucked up so badly. “Take that back before I hit you.”

“(Y/N)...” His fist unclenched as he saw your eyes welling with tears. “(Y/N), don’t cry... Please don’t cry...” You weren’t the one who used to cry a lot. That was Felix. If he couldn’t find Glenn, or Sylvain, or _ Dima _ \- Nothing could stop him from wailing. He wrapped his arms around you, swaying you back and forth like your oldest brother used to do for him, “I’m sorry, kid. Please stop crying...”

“Fe,  _ I loved him _ ... I know he’s still in there...” You blathered into your brother’s chest, “He gets worried that the children aren’t being given enough rations, and the other week we got caught in the rain, and he held his cloak over me so I could stay dry, and- and-“ 

He didn’t bother trying to stop the weak fists you were smashing into his shoulders. You were better with magic than you were with brawling. Still, he had it coming. He could justify talking shit about The Boar - he couldn’t justify screaming at his baby sister - even if it was boar related.

“He was protecting you..!” You shouted into him, “Are you really going to sit here and tell me that doesn’t sound like Dima?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. Maybe? It sounded like something that sweet kid he used to know would do. But you hadn’t seen the monster that came out in a fight... Or he didn’t think you had. That creature that reveled in the bloodshed he wrought. He couldn’t believe that they were the same person. He didn’t want to. He wasn’t ready to rationalize that. Not yet. And you loved him. You fucking loved him, whoever the fuck he was. “If he ever does anything to you-”

“He’s not going to-

“If he ever tries to hurt you, you’ll tell me.” He curled you in even tighter. “Promise me you’ll tell me.” He couldn’t let anything happen to you. He lost Glenn, he could barely handle being around father. He needed you.

“Fe... I promise.” You let go of him. He let you slip away. “But... I’m going to be fine. Don’t worry so much.”

He’d try not to, but, it is a big brother’s job to worry. He’d take your word for it now. You were sincere about that, and how you felt about The Boar. But so help him, by the Goddess, if that beast tried anything that even remotely troubled you, Felix was going to destroy him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I had a real good time writing this one. I just really had a good vibe while I was working on it, y'know? Ah, well I certainly hope it was up to snuff! We've got some fluff comin' up, and on the horizon some ANGST.


	16. Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MaMinette keeps the wholesome request train running. It’s your birthday, my dears.

Dimitri had woken up early that day, almost childishly giddy. He had to be quick about this though, if he wanted to be with you when you woke up. He crept down the hall, knocking on the doors to his daughter’s rooms, then finally stopping in front of Lambert’s door, actually banging on it. He was a way heavier sleeper than his sisters, and he needed the extra motivation.

“Father..?” Lambert opened the door, disheveled and a slightly sleep deprived mess. It seemed he had fallen victim once more to some of Gustaves' unorthodox teachings. Unfortunate, but His Majesty didn’t have time to address it.

“I’m sorry for waking you, my little ones.” He ushered the princesses into their brother’s room, closing the door behind him. “We’re having an emergency family meeting.”

“Where is mama?” El asked, rubbing her eyes in an effort to wake herself. Aria let her sister be the one to ask, still half asleep.

“Your mother is still resting. I’m here to make sure you’ve all gotten her something.”

“Have we...? Were we supposed to get her something?” Aria looked to Lambert who was growing pale.

“Oh no...” The crown prince whispered. “I-I forgot...” Poor Lambert, in another world could have been described as a bit of a boy scout. For a prince, and for his age, he was quite the upstanding, and very sweet young man. “Father- I- I didn’t realize it was today!”

Aria tugged on his sleeve, “Lammy. What did we-” Her eyes snapped to El, who had brought her tiny hands to her temples.

“We forgot to get her a birthday gift.” She was too young to be having this large of a stress spike.

The Duscur princess’s jaw dropped. “IT’S HER BI-”

She was cut off by her brother clamping a hand over her mouth before she woke up the entire palace. “Shhh!!”

“Children,” Dimitri crossed his arms and frowned. “I’m very surprised. It’s not like you three to be so forgetful...” He didn’t sound mad, he sounded...  _ disappointed _ . Lambert screamed internally.

“Father, please.” Aria shook off her brother, “Don’t blame Lambert and Ellie. He’s hardly slept at all thanks to Sir Gustave, and she’s too little. I should have been reminding them.”

That was an awful lot of responsibility for an eight year old to take. Dimitri pat her head. “It’s alright, my little princess. I suppose I shouldn’t have waited so long to ask you all about this.”

“We can fix this...” Lambert had finally regained enough composure, now that he determined his father was not upset with him. “We still have most of the day to find gifts for her...”

The decision was made that Dimitri would try and stall you for as long as possible - keep your attention away from the kids so that you wouldn’t figure out what they were doing. He crawled back into bed with you as the first rays of dawn began to creep into your bedroom.

You stirred ever so slightly. “Where’d you go?”

He loved to look at you. How long had you been married? Fourteen, maybe fifteen years? And you were still as beautiful as ever. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you into his chest. “Just for a short walk, my dearest.”

You shifted so that you could look up at him. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Nothing of the sort.” How sweet of you, after all this time to be worried for him. “I was just making sure that everything was in order for today.”

“What's the occasion?” You asked sleepily.

Wow. Was he really the only person in this family who remembered? “It’s your birthday, my beloved.”

“Oh shit, really..?” You yawned. Your foul mouth had not disappeared with age. “Does that mean I get to sleep in today?

“If that is what you want to do, then of course.” This was good. Best case scenario even. This would buy the children at least two more hours to get things sorted. And of course he got the joy of holding you in his arms for longer than he usually would. Such a joyous occasion this was.

Lambert had this in the bag. He knew what to do. He had this situation under control. He could fix this, and make sure his mom had a wonderful, and thoughtful present for her birthday. He had a plan. He got himself and his sisters ready for the day to begin, though much earlier than he would have liked, and they made their way down to the palace kitchen. He ever so politely asked the kitchen maidens for access. Though some people considered it unbecoming of nobility to go into work spaces like this, Lambert convinced them to make an exception. They adored him tremendously. Not only did he have the face of an angel, to them he was one. He was such a helpful young man, constantly offering to carry heavier bunches of ingredients like the good little prince he was.

His idea was fairly simple. He was going to make his mother a fruit tart, and he was going to do it himself so that she knew how much love he put into it. If all went well, he could let his sisters share credit for it too, saving them the effort. He had seen the maids knead dough for pastries before, and he could chop up some fruit, obviously. How hard could this be?

Extremely. It was extremely difficult and he thought he was going to die.

He vastly underestimated the difficulty of the task. Here’s the problem when Lambert gets stressed... the Crest of Blaiddyd just sorta... triggers... randomly, but frequently. When El reminded him to get the fire going in the bakeoven early, he kept accidentally snapping the kindling in half. He rightly asked Aria to light the fire for him, just so he wouldn’t blow up the kitchen - it was fine, she was better with reason magic anyway.

The girls shared a concerned glance at each other when their brother picked up a wooden spoon, only to crush that in his hand as well. They weren’t even entirely sure what he picked it up for. Generally you could make dough without utensils. “Lammy... Are you alright?” Ellie asked him.

The prince let out a hysterical laugh, having to lean on the counter top from how hard he was wheezing. Then he paused, “Oh, goodness, no.”

“How much sleep did you get last night?” Aria continued the interrogation.

“About three hours. Not consecutively, but that’s alright. I promise, this is fine.” He gingerly placed the broken spoon down, electing to ignore it for the time being. “You two aren’t even that blurry, it’s okay.”

The sisters looked at each other again. They may have been too young to know it, but their eyes screamed _ ‘What the fuuuuck _ ,’ This wasn’t going to work out as well as their brother was hoping. El, wise beyond her years attempted to be the voice of reason, “We should ask one of the cooks to help u-”

“Absolutely not!” The prince’s crest triggered again, and his hand went through the counter top. He didn’t seem to notice. Didn’t they understand?! This gift had to come from the heart! And that meant he had to do this by himself! “I can do this. It’s just a pastry... I’m fine.”

He was not fine.

Aria and El snuck out of the kitchen before things got a thousand times worse. Lambert didn’t even notice. He was too busy trying to think of the proportions for this. He knew he needed sugar, and water, and plenty of flour. Now, Lambert wasn’t entirely certain on how it got to the point, but he had the bright idea to take a small snooze, because he somewhat recognized that he was barely functional, and when he came to he was covered in flour, and the fire in the bake oven had extinguished.

He grumbled a little, his sisters nowhere to be found, meaning he would have to restart it himself to get it preheated. He managed to put some kindling back in without breaking any of it, but he was hesitant to use a fire spell, given how most of this had gone so far. (He saw the hole in the counter, and had come to the unfortunate observation that it looked suspiciously about the size of his hand.) He could use magic - really, given who his mother was he definitely could. He was being raised to be a Holy Knight, in terms of skills. His sisters were just more in control of this power than he was at the moment. Oh well, what else could he do?

With the snap of his fingers he let off a small spark, and then he was suddenly blown across the room. He had failed to notice the slight haze in the air, and had caused a flour dust explosion. He took after his mother in other ways. When he hit the opposite wall he grunted out an “Ow, fuck!” Because who wouldn’t after flying through the air like that?

This utterance could not have occurred at a worse time. Sir Gustave had stepped into the kitchen threshold, looking for the prince. “Your Highness?!” The old knight could hardly believe his ears! Now, the prince’s mother - just about everyone in the palace knew how foul her mouth could be - but Lambert?! Dear, gentle-souled Prince Lambert? He brought a hand to his chest, feeling a sudden tightness. He was well into his seventies now, and his poor heart couldn’t handle such a thing.

“Shit- Wait I mean- Fuck! No, shit- I don’t mean-“ The prince scrambled off the floor, yelling the entire way to the wilting knight who was slumping in the doorway. This was going to set him back quite a bit, but he needed to get his ailing teacher to a medic as soon as possible!

Perhaps this is what the Queen meant by ‘Karma,’ for Gustave causing three different generations of teenage Blaiddyds to suffer from sleep deprivation because he decided to send them into the mountains at unholy hours. Meanwhile, elsewhere in the palace...

The girls felt bad for leaving their big brother like that - but he had to suffer the consequences of his actions. They needed to get their mom _ something _ . They deliberated for a few minutes, and ended up deciding their best course of action was to split up and both try to find her a gift. If only one of them was successful, they would say they found it together. If they both found something, great, how individually thoughtful they were!

El wandered off to find her most trusted and beloved vassal. The present Captain of the King’s Guard had been teaching her how to use an ax since she was able to walk - and to a six year old, that was just about the coolest thing in the world. He was also a fantastic cook (especially compared to the absolute disaster that her brother was...) He had also known the queen since their school days. “Uncle Dedue?” She toddled into his office, the knights all parting for the princess. “Can you help me with something, please?”

“Good morning, Your Highness.” He stood from his desk. The documents could wait. The ray of sunlight that had wandered in was much more important. He knelt down to be level with the little lady. “What do you require?”

“Uncle, I am trying to find a birthday gift for mama.” Her face fell into a sad frown. “But I am small, tired, and I have no money. So, you can imagine the amount of stress I am under...”

“I understand, Princess. How about we take a moment to think about things that your mother is fond of?”

“Umm...” The little lady hummed. Lambert had taken a good deal after his father. Ellie on the other hand more greatly resembled you. “She likes that flower that looks like a sword?”

“Gladiolus?” Yes, that was (Y/N)’s favorite. Dimitri had an entire portion of the palace gardens and greenhouses set aside so that he could bring her some stems once in a while, no matter what time of year.

“That’s the one!” She exclaimed, pleased as can be. “Do you know where I can find some?”

“In the greenhouse, Your Highness.” He stood as the girl spun on her heels, thanking him. “Would you like some assistance?”

El skid to a halt in the doorway. “... Yes, please.” Unlike her brother, she could admit when she wasn’t qualified to do something on her own.

Aria had less of a plan than her younger sister did, who knew exactly who she wanted to speak to. The Princess was left to wander for a bit. However, Aria was taught the most efficient way to get around by the Archbishop himself. Sprint like death itself was after her! She was going to run until she found someone who could give her some decent advice, and she was going to do so quickly. She found just that in the form of the delightfully grumpy Lord Fraldarius, in town for Her Majesty’s birthday. “Uncle Felix, I need some help!”

The Shield’s Successor immediately rushed to the side of the princess, scooping her up protectively, and drawing his sword. “Who’s following you!?” If they so much as threatened a hair on her head, so help him, by the Goddess, they would be dead where they stood!

Aria was initially very confused - but it quickly occurred to her that running at someone and yelling for help would probably warrant this type of reaction from most people, given her status. “Ah, no one, I am terribly sorry!”

Felix let out a heavy sigh, and set the girl down. “Don’t scare me like that, Your Highness...”

“I apologize, Uncle Felix.” She offered him a polite curtsy. “But I do need your help with something really important!”

He tried not to sigh again. “What do you need, kid?”

“My mom lived with you for five or so years, right? During the War? So you know her really well!”

“She’s like a sister to me. Where’s this going?”

“I don’t know what to get her for her birthday.” If anyone could help her figure out her mother’s taste, it was her dear uncle - one half of the pair who inspired her fencing passion. Between all the swordsmanship and reason they had taught her, she was well on her way to becoming a Mortal Savant! That was a goal for later in life, the current goal was to get her mom a gift.

Felix took a deep breath. Of all the people the kid had to come ask for help, it had to be him. He murmured something to her about you studying medicine, and suddenly he was being dragged out of the palace, and into the market’s of Fhirdiad. He noticed that they were being trailed by some Kingdom Knights, which was probably for the best. The citizens marveled as the Duscur Princess swept by with astounding speed, Lord Fraldarius in tow. Who’s to say there wasn’t someone wishing them harm nearby out of sheer coincidence? She finally slowed down at a magic shop, pulling the lord in with her.

He noticed the princess shifting nervously as she held a beginners white magic book close to her chest. “What’s wrong, Your Highness?”

Her gaze was downcast, her voice small. “I left my allowance back at the castle...” 

He reached into his cloak for his wallet. Was Felix Hugo Fraldarius really about to buy this girl’s mother her birthday present for her? Probably. He wasn’t about to let an eight year old deal with this much disappointment.

“Ah! Hold it right there, Lord Fraldarius!” A voice hollered outside the shop.

Aria whipped her head around at the sound, “Grandfather?” Sure enough, the old merchant was in the shop doorway, and behind him - “Auntie Mari?” It certainly made sense that your family would be in town - it was your birthday, after all. The heir of the House (L/N) picked up the tab for her adopted niece.

You finally got out of bed sometime in the afternoon, but you and the King were tucked away in one of the palace reading rooms. There was a chaise lounge you two quite enjoyed curling up on to read together. Although you weren’t making much progress through your novel. Bless him, he’d ask you if you needed anything every few minutes. Almost incessantly. “Would you like any tea?” “Are you hungry?” “You aren’t too cold, are you?”

“I’m fine, Dimitri...” You would tell him.

He also kept asking if you wanted your gift he got for you. It was very sweet of him. You told him you would wait till you saw the kids. It was so endearing how excited he seemed to give you something.

At the end of the day, after a lengthy dinner with the lords, and ladies, and the merchants, and your father and adopted sister, you were finally allowed to retire to your chambers, where you found your daughters waiting. Your husband was quite pleased, as they both appeared to be hiding things behind their backs. However, you were one kid short.

“Girls, where is your brother?” You asked, only for the crown prince to stumble into the room. “Oh, hello Lambert. How-”

“LORDGUSTAVEISFINEPLEASEDONOTASKMEABOUTIT.” He blurted out. It was cool. Gustave was just fine. Just a little shaken. Lambert limped towards you, the explosion from earlier had hit him a bit harder than he realized. He also still visibly had flour in his hair. He stretched out a poorly wrapped box. It reminded you tremendously of Dimitri’s own craft ability. Like E+. He dropped to his knees before you, presenting the box. “I made you this.”

“Lambert, sweetheart, are you alright?” You ran a hand through his hair, brushing as much of the powder out as you could. Oh, your poor baby... He must have had a hell of a day.

“I got into a fight with an oven... And I lost.” He shook his head. “After this... I think I’m going to stay in bed for a few days.” He pushed the box into your hands, and then slumped onto the floor. 

Aww, baby boy... Gently, you unraveled the crunched up ribbon from the partially crushed box. And on the inside was a fruit tart. Now, the crust itself was a bit... toasty looking - but honestly the glaze on the fruit looked pretty good. “My favorite! Thank you, Lammy.”

He gave you a thumbs up. Yes, you could see all the care he took for this. He allowed himself to fall asleep then and there.

“Dimitri, could you carry him back to his room after this?”

“Of course, my beloved.” He then looked at his daughters. “Now, what did you two get your mother?”

The princesses presented their gifts at the same time. A book you recognized quite well from Aria. You had read it as a girl in seminary, in the school of sorcery, and you taught out of it at the academy. And the prettiest bouquet you had ever seen from El. Snow white sword lilies, pinched together at the stems by a blue ribbon. “Oh, how sweet. Girls, these are wonderful~!” You set your presents aside to curl your arms around your little girls. You would have hugged your son as well, but he was taking a nap. You knew how he felt - you had been there. Three treasures... these little blessings were the real gift to you.

You looked past your children to their father. The look in his eyes almost reminded you of a puppy. _ ‘My turn, my turn, my turn!’ _

“Alright, Dimitri. What did you get me?” 

Your husband was absolutely ecstatic. He had been waiting ALL DAY for this. He reached into his dress coats pocket - certain to dress sharp for your special day - and he pulled out something small and shiny. He pressed it into your hands. It was cold.

You gazed down at his little gift. It was a cloak brooch - something to pin the fabric in place. It was a crescent of blue. An Azure Moon, if you will. “It’s beautiful...”

“Not nearly as beautiful as you.” He planted a kiss on top of your head. Then turned to get his son off the floor.

What a marvelous way to spend a day! Sleeping in, dinner with the loved ones, then presents from your darling children, and then you get to end the night in the arms of your dear husband. It’s a shame this only happened once a year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative Title? Prince Lambert's No Good, Dirty Rotten, Terrible, Very Bad Day.
> 
> This one was cute. Introvert IV next week ;)


	17. Introvert IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kei says that they want some introverted reader throwing hands alongside one feral man? I most certainly can oblige such a request.

You had a stressful morning in the infirmary, following a prior extended shift, you hadn’t eaten yet, and you weren’t going to be able to take a nap just in case there was another emergency, thus you were on your eighth cup of coffee, and it was making you twitch. You were... not having the best day, to be perfectly honest. To put it simply, you were about three slights against you away from going absolutely fucking ballistic. It seemed as though you were destined to throw hands at some point.

Now, as a reasonable woman, you had very little interest in flipping your shit, but good goddess, people were not making any of this nonsense easy on you. Naturally, you were a bit shy, so you did well enough avoiding people by virtue of your existence - but some people would not accept natural habits as an excuse... Oh, the dear, dear professor got the roots of the shit storm going...

You heard him coming before you saw him. He was sprinting, as he so often did. You got a sinking feeling in your rapidly vibrating heart and you suspected he was coming to find you. In fact, given the increasing volume of his footfall, you knew he was. There was no hope for you to duck away and hide. It was all you could do to brace yourself as the Ashen Demon caught up to you. “(Y/N).”

“Hello Professor.” You attempted to suppress your twitching, praying the Goddess would make this quick.

“Could you do something for me?” He asked, getting right to the point.

The Goddess had forsaken you. You felt the muscles near your eyes tweak a few times. “Depends on what you need...” This was insanity. You were visibly not okay. What could he possibly need?

“I need you to pick up some land surveys and maps in town.”

It wasn’t necessarily an outlandish request, but you literally looked like the spectre of death at the moment. You were not a plausible candidate to go run errands. “Why me?”

“Dimitri needs to get some sunlight. He’ll go with you if you ask him.”

You gave a few extremely rapid blinks. So this was about the prince. No regard for your health - this was about his royal grumpiness getting out for a bit. You considered this slight number one. He had asked for you to do this, but this seemed more like an order rather than a request - that, or you were just too polite or anxious to decline. “I’m happy to help, Professor.”

You were not happy in the slightest, even when the beloved teacher had slipped you some extra money to get some things for yourself as compensation, and promised you could sleep after this. You hadn’t even really left the monastery since the  _ incident _ with the thieves a while back. You had been a bit afraid at the prospect.

However, you were also almost irrationally concerned about acting rude, so you would do as the man in charge asked. You needed to go find Anna, get some papers and charts, then report back, and more importantly take His Highness for a walk. What- was he a fucking dog? Goddess, this was weird... Regardless you vaguely stumbled your way to the cathedral, strapping your rapier on, a few whispers of ‘is she alright?’ accompanying your trek. You could mostly see straight, this was fine. You were having trouble wrangling the uncontrollable trembling though.

Approaching the prince was always a bit of a difficulty. Yes, he was nicer to you that he was to everyone else, but it wasn’t by much. It was only on rare occasions where one could describe his actions as sweet - like when you had fallen asleep, and he had lent you his cloak. You took your careful steps towards him - one foot in front of the other, and were about to call out to him.

“What do you want?” He hadn’t even turned over his shoulder to look at you. He had snapped before you had even opened your mouth. This was slight number two, and it happened right off the bat.

Your shaking hand clenched, a reflex. “The Professor wants you to come into town with me.”

He hardly gave you the time to finish, “No.” 

“Dimitri-”

“I do not care what The Professor said.” This was so mean. He knew you didn’t like arguing, or raising your voice, or anything that could call attention to you. He was going to use that to his full advantage. “I’m not leaving unless it brings me closer to Enbarr.”

You felt a rage within you bubbling up “Were I not a holy woman, I would beat you senseless...” You put a lid on that almost as soon as the words left you. Yikes. You kept your lips shut tight, attempting to pretend that you hadn’t said anything at all.

His face scrunched up a bit. He wasn’t mad, though that was his default emotion at this point. If anything he was confused. Had you just threatened him? It was at this point that he finally turned to get a good look at you. The bags under your eyes might have been rivaling his own in terms of severity. He also noted that you were twitching ever so slightly every few seconds. Clearly, you were not having a particularly good day.

Your face fell into a frown, “Are you really going to make me leave the monastery by myself?” You asked quietly.

A few minutes later, the two of you were begrudgingly heading into town together. Neither of you could be more displeased with this arrangement than the other was. You should have been in bed resting for once, and he should have been allowed to brood. 

Your frown had stirred something in his chest that caused him immense pain - he agreed to this only to make that end. You hadn’t left Garreg Mach since the night those thieves held you hostage. He hadn’t bothered asking as to why - he could read you well enough. Firstly, with the war effort in full swing, there were guards on duty twenty four hours a day. You had felt much safer like that, much less paranoid. Secondly, leaving meant the possibility of running into friends of the bandits who he had slaughtered. Who’s to say they wouldn’t try to take vengeance on you? And thirdly, you weren’t exactly comfortable around strangers. Most of the resistance were people you knew, people who didn’t exhaust you as quickly. The general public on the other hand, would be less than pleasant for you.

You had intended to keep this as quick as humanly possible, making a beeline for the merchant, Lady Anna. The sooner you were back to the Monastery, the sooner you could go to sleep. Your stomach dropped as you got closer to her usual stall, because you spotted someone vaguely familiar in the crowd. He was in plain clothes, rather than the thieves' leather you had seen him in last time, but there was no mistaking the young, spotty face of Lucius. You were absolutely not going to deal with that situation. You unconsciously got a bit closer to Dimitri, but otherwise kept moving. He looked down at you with an inquisitive glare, attempting to ask you if something was wrong, you imagined.

“... It’s crowded...” That wasn’t a lie - you would rather worry about that than the kid. The prince knew that this might have been a lot for you. Just because you were getting better with social troubles didn’t mean you could handle this kind of overwhelming environment, especially since you had been cooped up in the monastery all this time.

He probably wasn’t helping the situation much either. Lots of people recognized him, obviously, and they were taking the time to stare. It was drawing their eyes to you as well. He hastened his step to match yours.

You made it to Anna in record time. “Oh, hey. You here for The Professor's things?”

You looked up to the prince, but he had stepped away to go lean and lurk on the nearby stonework. Neither of you were particularly talkative, but you were definitely friendlier. This conversation was going to have to be your responsibility. Ugh. “Y-yes...” You cringed internally. One word, and you had managed to stutter... It was to be expected. You knew Anna, but she was more of an acquaintance than anything. That didn’t make this any less embarrassing.

“Great!” She reached behind the counter of her little set up, and began individually pulling out wrapped scrolls of parchment. “You just give me a sec, and I’ll get all this together for you!”

“Okay...” She was busy. Ah, good, an excuse to not have to sit through idle chatter. You turned your attention to the main street. Dimitri had his attention pointed to the main gate, probably more suspicious of what was coming from the outside than anything coming from Garreg Mach’s direction. You took a peak back towards where you spotted Lucius and you felt you felt bile rise in your throat.

He was at the next booth over. Just your fucking luck. You had locked eyes, each staring at each other like a deer at a hunter’s arrow drawn at them. You didn’t know if the shakes you felt now were caffeine or fear related - you couldn’t be sure. Literally, fuck all of this, Anna needed to hurry up before you had a stroke. You took a deep, trembling breath, and you turned away. You, an adult, had no business being afraid of a child’s presence. Or, at least that's what you told yourself. Regardless, ignoring him was likely the best thing you could do in this situation.

Ah, how nice it would have been to ignore it all. But alas, how could you ignore the gigantic brute storming through the crowd toward the boy? How could you ignore him grabbing the boy by the shoulders, practically throttling the poor kid? How were you supposed to ignore the shouting that followed?

No, seriously, how were you supposed to ignore the vulgar shit this guy was spewing? It was public indecency! If His Highness stopped being apathetic about anything other than murder for ten minutes even he might have been flustered! Between all the frankly unspeakable foulness he hissed out something regarding the boy not being allowed to leave ‘the group,’ likely referring to the rogue’s gang Dimitri had partially demolished. With wide eyes, you made the mistake of turning your head to view the spectacle before you. Once more, you saw the boy staring at you, although this time his gaze wasn’t terrified - well, it was, but now it was also screaming for help. 

The brigand's glare followed the boy’s frantic non verbal pleas to you. “What?!” He snapped, “You got somethin’ to say, lady?!”

Not particularly, no. You never had much to say to people you didn’t know. Did this guy care? Not really, but he was still going. Alas, he had activated slight number three.

“Quit starin’! Spacey bitch!” You weren’t really paying attention to what he was saying after that - honestly, you kinda zoned out. However this little voice in the back of your head was translating all the abuse this rando was shouting at you as,  _ “HIT ME. PUNCH ME IN MY STUPID FUCKING FACE. I DARE YOU TO.” _

Your arm stretched out to your side, brushing against the items Anna had set up in her vendor's stall. Books, sachets, jewelry, spices, and then something cold. Something solid. _ Wine Bottle. _ “Lady Anna. How much for this?”

The pink haired merchant peered up from her parchment sorting, scanning her merchandise. “That’s an Hrym Pinot Noir bottled in 1179. These days, that’ll run you around one thousand-” You reached into your satchel, pulled out a whole-ass bullion, and you slammed it on the counter. “-gold...”

It had happened. There had been three slights against you. What else could you do other than lose your fucking shit?! You strode up to the man with confidence completely foreign to you. Not a single word he spoke registered in your mind. You gripped the wine bottle at the neck of it, reared your arm back, and took the heaviest swing you had made in all your days. The glass shattered against his skull, wine splattered into his eyes, his face was cut up. He finally released the boy, doubling over in pain.

Despite how emotionally satisfying that whack against the brigands head was, you were not even remotely close to done. Taking advantage of the fact that he was keeling over, you drove your knee into the rogue’s nose - based on the faint cracking noise you heard, you might have broken it. 

The man hit the dirt, rolling around in pain. You took a deep breath, letting it out as a relieved sigh. Good Goddess, you were feeling a hell of a lot better, that was for sure! You were still exhausted, but that absurd amount of anger that had been welling in you since your chat with The Professor was almost gone! Almost. You turned your attention to Lucius, who currently reminded you of a cornered rat. You were courteous enough to drop what was left of the wine bottle in your hand, before you told him with a surprisingly patient, but nonetheless stern, “Go home, kid.”

But the boy stayed stock still, save for his trembling of fear. “M-mo... of em.’”

“Huh?”

“Th-there are more of... more of them...”

Imagine this mess from the prince’s perspective. He had left you for but a few minutes. He saw you trembling like a leaf in front of the merchant, and then he went to watch the gate. You were on his blind side, meaning he had to twist his whole body to be able to see you. When he turned back there was a man bleeding at your feet, and you were trying to get answers out of- Oh, that was a face he recognized. A face that survived through your mercy alone. The boy said something to you, causing you to whirl around and draw your rapier to guard.

You saw His Highness making his way towards you in your periphery, but you were more focused on the unfamiliar men in the crowded market making their way towards you. They were looking rather upset that you had broken their friend’s nose. It seems you were in for quite the fight. “Okay kid, I need you to go to the monastery, and I need you to get the knights.” Now that your adrenaline was roaring, your stammer had disappeared. Neat! If only the circumstances were better! There were going to be a lot of people to deal with coming at you, and you would feel a lot better if you could hide behind The Professor. “Find a man with mint hair. His name is Byleth. Tell him (Y/N) messed up.” You shot off a Nosferatu at the first bandit who got within twenty feet, sending him flying backwards. Hopefully that would be a sufficient warning for a few brigands to back off. The mass of suddenly fleeing civilians certainly took the hint.

“What did you do?” The Prince spoke as though he were more exasperated than irritated, at least. He glared daggers at Lucius as you shooed him off toward the monastery.

His sternness was giving you pause. You shifted your grip on your blade, grounding yourself. “Broke a bandits nose... now his buddies are mad...” No amount of adrenaline would make talking to His Highness any easier... You uncomfortably nudged the man on the ground with your foot. Kinda forgot he was there for a hot second. “... Can you help me?”

You could see the gears turning behind Dimitri’s eye before it softened for a split second.. “Of course.”

“I... I am sorry for dragging you into this.” You muttered. You were confused by his willingness to not let you languish. Then again, it was as everyone said - he did have a soft spot for you.

“It doesn’t matter.” He produced a short spear from under his cloak. It was the slightest bit terrifying how much metal he kept under there - you suspected he had a silver sword as well, knowing him. “How many?”

“Not sure, the kid was stuttering too much.” You shook your head, another ball of light from Nosferatu bringing you the slightest bit more energy. “Must be a substantial amount... Might be Imperially backed...” You may have been pausing a lot, but this was a lot of speaking! Nice work!

Imperially backed? On top of them trying to cause a stir in the monastery- definitive kingdom territory, and being related to the group of vermin who had captured and beaten you... All the more reason to tear them to shreds.

You saw his expression shift once more. From that tired scowl, to a genuine snarl. “Don’t... Don’t kill too many of them. We should try to capture them... So we can interrogate them..!” That was the best you could do for these men, the only mercy you would be able to offer against His Highness. You had no love for these bastards, but you did detest pointless bloodshed. These poor, poor bastards, who had no idea just what the hell they were about to get into.

He left you with a “Hmph,” that you could only pray meant he agreed with you, before he rushed the next nearest brigand, whacking him across the face with the flat of the throwing spear. Knowing The Prince’s strength, that probably dislocated the man's jaw, but at least he hadn’t skewered the poor rogue.

You preferred to stay on the defensive, rather than rush into the fray as the Tempest King did. With the exception of the first guy and the wine bottle, you did not enjoy starting skirmishes. A proper lady does not start a fight. She ends them.

“Oh, they better stay away from my shop, if they know what’s good for them!” Anna hollered, fishing a mini bow out from behind her counter. She promptly began firing at the legs of anyone getting too close.

“I’ll try to keep them back Lady Anna...” You replied, inching away from her wares. The first brigand to get close to you had chosen a knife as his weapon. A rather poor decision, given the range your rapier gave you in close quarters combat. Though it was technically a thrusting weapon, the edges were still sharpened specifically for this kind of situation - a desire to deter attack.

His blade work was nothing to scoff at, but neither was yours. You were dealing with a man wearing a leather chassis, and that was it for his armour. Not even so much as a gauntlet to defend his wrist from your well struck cut to his wrist. He dropped the knife and his guard with a yelp, grasping his fresh wound with his free hand. You took the opportunity to kick the man in the stomach as hard as you possibly could, sending him to the ground, though you weren’t given the chance to threaten the man into staying down as you would have liked. One of his buddies had charged at you, and clocked you in the jaw before you could turn to deal with him properly. How lucky you were that this man came at you unarmed.

How unlucky for him that you were absolutely  **fucking livid** . You took a split second to bring a hand to your cheek, already pulsing with pain, and definitely going to bruise, before you let out a shriek of rage. You threw your rapier down in a fit of frustration, and you lunged at the man - startled beyond belief at how you had snapped. You rammed your shoulder into the brigand’s ribs, the two of you falling into the dirt. You scrambled to pin his shoulders with your legs, and then you began to absolutely wailing on the poor bastard. None of this was wholly necessary, as you had already knocked the wind out of him. One fist after another connecting with his stupid face until you had also knocked out at least three teeth.

It was quite the surprise that you had yet to be struck again, as punching the hell out of the rogue beneath you was eating up long enough time to get the drop on you. Coming to your senses as the fractured faced man begged for mercy, you looked around and saw that most of the remaining gang members were being dealt with by His Highness. He had been making his way back over to you, and judging by the trail of men wallowing in pain behind him, he had broken several people’s bones instead of killing them. Thank the Goddess. But the crowd had likely recognized that, despite how savage your beatings were, the man with super strength was a slightly more pressing issue than a raging medic. You didn’t doubt for a second that he could manage them, but you felt it would be courteous of you to lend a hand.

You stood off of the fallen brigand, “Stay down if you value your life!” You spat, picking up your rapier. You meant it. You would spare them if they got back up. Dimitri would not. He had his spear up to guard against a hand axe. The user could be described as broad. Not in the sense that the prince was, but there was still a bit of challenge to the weight behind it. It had left the opportunity for more rogues to creep closer to the prince. You leveled your rapier at the crowd moving towards him. There were no more civilians nearby. Good. You intended to put an end to this immediately. “Dimitri, move!”

He parried his lance away from the axe and took his own half second to look to you, only to see you tracing sigils in the air with the tip of the blade. Big sigils. You were going for a nuke. Even Anna had gone to duck behind her counter. It was not his preference to run, but he was hardly in the mood to get vaporized. He launched his short spear at a man to his left, breaking the tightening ring of assailants around him. He dashed out from there tucking and rolling out of the way as you bombed the ground he previously occupied with Aura.

The dust cleared as your shoulders heaved with each deep breath you made. You had created a massive crater in the center of the market, a perfect ring of unconscious brigands surrounding it. Thankfully, they all seemed to still be breathing too. You dropped your rapier again, not purposefully this time, your hands shaking even more uncontrollably than they had been earlier. What were you told at the school of sorcery? Caffeine and offensive white magic can cause extensive stress on the body resulting in what..? What was it..? Seizures? Were you having a seizure? This was something you were probably supposed to know better... It probably wasn’t a seizure - it didn’t feel like one. Still, you reacted to a sudden stabbing pain in your skull with a small moan. That was one sharp migraine. You squeezed your eyes shut, suddenly very uncomfortable with how bright it was outside. Everything felt like it was spinning.

The new ringing in your ears prevented you from hearing the approach of armor to dirt, clanging sounds. Hands clasped onto your shoulders, keeping your upright. He saw the bruise forming on your cheek. “Which one of them hit you?” The delivery was flat, but the rage underlying the question was hard to miss.

“Don’member...” You slurred. You would have rather he asked if you were okay. The answer was obvious, but it still would have been nice.

“Then I’ll kill them all...” He would have turned to do just that, had you not grabbed his hands.

“No...” You would have dropped to your knees if you weren’t holding him. “Please...” This was all such bullshit. Could he go one day without killing someone? Could you go one day without being troubled? Could everyone just stop - just for a few minutes? Your skull was pounding.

“What is going on here?!” By the Goddess, this may have been the first time you had ever heard surprise in that voice. Your eyes fought open, struggling to adjust to the light, but clear as day, the Ashen Demon was rushing forward, the Knights of Seiros in tow, trailed by one very frightened looking young man. The Professor took one look at you, and almost immediately diagnosed you with magic fatigue, exacerbated by some kind of third influence. Probably caffeine. The massive hole in the ground had been your doing, no doubt. “(Y/N), what did you do?”

“Scuse’ me..?” You blinked heavily a few times, struggling to focus on him against your blurring vision. Had you heard him correctly? “... What’d I do..?” You managed not to tilt into His Highness as you shot a blurry glare at the general. “This is your fault..!”

“My fault?” Again, he sounded surprised. He waved his hand to signal to the knights to begin collecting the thieves. “How is this my fault?”

“How is-...” You got quiet for a moment. Very quiet. Disturbingly quiet. Like you had died suddenly quiet. And then, you absolutely exploded into a rage. “Of course this is all your fault! You inconsiderate fool!” You shook off the prince’s steadying grip, and stormed up to The Professor, albeit at a slight angle, and began jabbing an accusing finger into his chest. “You saw me jittering from eight cups of coffee and sleep deprivation. Eight cups Professor! I haven’t slept in two days!” You seized him by the shoulders, to emphasize your point, but also to keep your balance. “And then you sent me outside, knowing how terrifying that is for me, telling me to take Prince Grumpy with me! Byleth Eisner, I am sixty percent of his impulse control on a good day - however, as we can all see, today is an exceptionally- tremendously- horribly not good day!” He was so lucky that he was too blurry to throw hands at, or he’d have a bruise on his face to match yours. “How could you possibly expect this nonsense to end well?! And then you have the audacity to accuse me of wrong-doing! You irresponsible fiend, how dare you speak to me that way!” You then pointed your very accusy finger back towards Lady Anna. “Go pick up your own stupid maps!” 

Speaking of the merchant, you spun on your heels and quickly gave her a curtsy, “ Lady Anna, I am terribly sorry if I’ve troubled your business at all today.” You then loosely stumbled back to His Highness, wobbling before him, you hadn’t meant to insult him. “Dimitri, I- I’m sorry I called you grumpy...” What little of his expression you could see clearly was nothing but confused. “I’m very tired... please excuse me...” Ever polite, and not wanting to be noted further for this outburst... Your tirade finished, you slumped forward, and you blacked out.

The Prince caught you, though he was extremely bewildered. He looked to The Professor for some kind of explanation, who was equally shocked by the previous scene. “I’ve hardly ever heard her speak...” And yet you had just shouted your poor, underused little lungs out. Perhaps he owed you an apology, when you eventually woke up.

_ A notice to the medical staff. _

_ In light of recent events, it is now a mandated requirement that Lady (F/N) (L/N) no longer works back to back shifts, nor is she allowed to drink more than three caffeinated beverages within the span of twenty four hours. She is also required to sleep for at least seven hours (consecutively) between her shifts in the infirmary (excluding battlefield duty.) _

_ This decree is made by the authority of General Byleth Eisner, and His Royal Highness, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd for the safety of all Civilians and Soldiers within and under the protection of the Army of the Rightful Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. _

You were asleep for eighteen hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever just drink enough coffee and get angry enough to fight god? Kind of the only thing I could think of to structure this scenario, since up to this point I had Introvert!Reader being just a soft lil' bby. What do you think? Personally, I had a good time writing it.


	18. The Night Before Tailtean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Yorocchi. We needed some angst up in here... Been too jolly round these parts. We’re in the Crimson Flower Timeline

You hadn’t necessarily intended for your interactions to lead to him bedding you multiple times. He just... he had seemed so stressed. He had always wanted to be a good king, but because of all the damn fighting he was forced to act more as a general than a sovereign of the people. You could see it on his face, how much it wore him down over the years. If you looked close enough into his beautiful, golden spun hair, you could see strands of gray. You were happy to be close to him in any capacity, at the least. This visibly eased him.

Tonight was not exactly different. He was to make the Kingdoms final stand against the Empire the next morning. He was to hold Tailteann Plain against the Empire forces, just as his ancestors had done, hundreds of years ago. Victory was not certain though. If the Knights of Seiros did not arrive in time... Well, you didn’t want to think about that at the moment. Of course, he was rightfully stressed, and so you had offered him what warmth and comfort that you were able. You also had something more personally pressing at hand to tell him.

It wasn’t exactly an accident, but it certainly was not on purpose. You two had not been as careful as you should have been, in a lot of ways. Your relationship was the worst kept secret in Fhirdiad. You had stopped minding the gossip a long, long time ago. No. This was more than concerns of your repute. You needed to tell him. “Dimitri..?” You whispered into the dark. You always called him by name. Always. He could not stand the thought of you calling him ‘Your Majesty,’ And you were troubled by the fact that a man so young was king... Was running a war...

The small “Hm?” that answered you gave you near instant regret. He had actually been asleep. Goddess knew he needed his rest. And you had ruined it. It made you clam up, which he clearly noticed, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “What’s the matter, (Y/N)?” He curled you, and all the sheets and comforters around you in closer to him. Sweet, sweet king, trying to give you comfort from whatever anxiety you felt.

The words came to you slowly. “Dimitri I...” Truly, there was no good way to break the news to him. He already had so much to deal with - you didn’t want to add to the trouble - but he needed to know. “I think I might be pregnant...”

“You’re-” Even in the dark, you could see how much his eyes had widened. Now he was definitely awake. His face quickly softened as he saw how troubled you looked, he brushed the strands of hair from your cheeks. “(Y/N), why do you look so upset? This is wonderful news...”

“Is it..?” You asked quietly. It certainly had its pros. It ensured another branch of the Blaiddyd bloodline beyond Duke Rufus, who had somehow survived this whole time, and... Well that was the only thing you could think of.

“Of course...!” A future... This was a future he could have, if he survived tomorrow. He could make you his queen, and you would rule together and finally bring The Kingdom the peace it deserved. And all the while he would be able to cradle you and his heir in his arms.  _ He could have a family again.  _ “You cannot even begin to imagine how happy I am...”

You could feel it in the way he pulled you in even closer still. The way his heart was suddenly racing. He was overjoyed. How could he be so excited despite what came with the morning? Didn’t he understand that he might not-

He felt you grip into him suddenly. You did not feel as reassured as he imagined you would. What could you possibly... “I will come back to you.” His fingers, careful with you as he had always been, resting on your face. “I promise, I will.”

That wasn’t fair, you thought. That wasn’t a promise he could make certain of. How could he make a promise of anything given the circumstances? He once told you it was irresponsible to do something like that, and yet here he was. The only certainty you were being given was that you would remain in his arms until dawn. That was the only comfort you would be offered until he did, or did not return from the field.

He kept you against him until dawn, protecting you, and the life you held from the unforgiving cold of Fhirdiad. You had eased back into a dreamless slumber, and because of this you did not answer his “ _ I love you... _ ” that he gave you, before he rose to join The Archbishop. Perhaps it was for the best. If you had said it back, it would have felt too final. Too much like a goodbye. He was tired of goodbyes. He was tired of losing things that he held dear. A ‘Goodbye’ from you would have been a nail in the coffin. He would see you again. He had to tell himself that. There would be no need for any type of farewell.

He needed this. **_She_** would not take anything else. Not one more life. Not a single acre of land. And not this future. The Emperor would be stopped. Just so long as the Churches’ forces arrived on time.

Goddess, he hoped they would arrive in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a bit short but goodbye’s are rarely long enough as long and as full as we want them to be.
> 
> Anyway gang, I'm still working, but it's also mid term season. So like, I'll still probably update as scheduled, but like maaaaybe not???


	19. A Responsibility Not Our Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celia keeping our angst train rolling. Sort of an alternate path that Aria’s arrival could have taken.

_ “My Beloved,” His Majesty appeared, taking great strides across the room to sweep you up in his arm. “How I missed you...” Arm? Why was he holding you with one arm? He had been all about bear hugs these past few years. You felt him press something into your grasp as he turned to Lambert, who he pulled very close with both arms this time. “There’s my boy~!” _

_ You looked down to what you were now cradling, finding a warm bundle of cloth and weight. Staring back at you was a small tan face, with the prettiest sunset golden eyes you had ever seen. _

_ “Your Majesty,” Dedue stepped into the room and gave you a polite bow. _

_ “Dedue,” You smiled to your old friend, though you looked back and forth between him and the baby in your arms. They had the same skin tone, but the similarities ended there. Still, you could deduce that this was a child of Duscur. “Um... Do you... Who’s..?” Who’s fucking baby is this..? _

_ “Her name is Aria, Your Majesty.” Dedue stated matter of factly. _

_ That wasn’t the question you were going to ask but, “Oh, that’s a lovely name...” You couldn’t help but rock her back and forth, much like you had to your son when he was this small. You were going to need to get used to the motion again anyway, given that you had another child on the way. “Where are her parents?” _

_ “She is yours now, Your Majesty.”  _

You jolted perfectly upright. “... Say that again, but slower.”

Based on your reaction, Dedue seemed to realize that his choice of words were... concerning, to put it lightly. “His Majesty has decided to take her in as his ward.”

Ah, he had adopted her. “Oh..! Um...” This was... a lot. A lot. A lot. Distracted by the throbbing in your skull, you hadn’t realized you had handed the infant to your old friend, before storming out of the room. Well, not really stormed, more like stumbled. You felt... Not good. Ears ringing. Seeing spots. Super not good.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” Your husband called after you. It seems he had left Lambert under Dedue’s supervision to pursue you. Hopefully you hadn’t worried your little boy too much.

“Dimitri.” You managed to cough up. You had a lot to say, but the sharp migraine that had descended upon you with a hellish fury had stolen the words away from you. “Dima...”

“My Beloved,” He took you by the shoulders to steady you, the discomfort apparent on your face. “What is troubling you?”

“Dimitri...” You repeated again. Goddess, he looked so worried. You were worried too. “Dimitri, what the fuck..?” You whisper-yelled at him.

You hadn’t actually cussed in front of him in quite some time - it shocked him. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Dimitri- you can’t just- you can’t just hand me a random baby and- Couldn’t you have written a letter?!” Again, you whisper-yelled. There were far too many ears in the palace for you to flat out scream at him. Didn’t mean you didn’t want to though. Your REALLY wanted to because this was fucking insane. This was a whole other child - and she was from Duscur- bringing her to Fhirdiad would put a target on her back. Things were getting better- but they weren’t perfect in terms of northern xenophobia- this put her life in danger.

“Oh. Oh, I...” He did not stop you from taking his hands off of you. You were visibly not happy about the contact, “I’ve upset you...”

“No shit, honey!” You took in a sharp deep breath. Air wasn’t really circulating. You felt like you weren’t getting any oxygen to your brain. Not good, not good, not good. You put your head in your hands, stifling a groan. You were trying not to get stressed. Stress was bad for the baby - maybe babies. There might have been two, you didn’t know for certain. It was a small bit too early to tell. Oh Goddess above, three infants would be a lot. You took another, deeper, deeper, breath. Were you having a panic attack? Oh fuck. “I need to go lay down...”

He reached for your arm, fully intending to walk you your chambers, given how close you looked to fainting, only for you to yank yourself away from him. He let you go, though it broke his heart to do so. You wouldn’t look at him. You couldn’t.

You retreated to the library, not your bedroom, lots of places to lounge in there... Lot’s of places to sleep. Who’s to say you would be more agreeable later at night. You would rather not be next to him. Another child. A whole FUCKING child, and he couldn’t even write you a damn letter! He had never done anything like this before - was this a bad sign? Was this an early tell of a collapsing marriage - a break down in communication?

You leaned into a chaise lounge, and closed your eyes. That might have been an exaggeration, or a leap in logic. All things considered, you and your husband were as sweet on each other as you were when you were young. So what was going on here? You sighed. The Savior King was often too kindly for his own good. He saw someone in need, and he stepped in. Sounds about right. And yet you were upset.

_ Were you a bad wife? _

You jolted awake at an ungodly hour. This had been a routine for the past few nights. You would snap up in the library, unable to sleep in your own bed. You still weren’t ready to hash this whole ordeal out with Dimitri, and it left you unable to so much as lay down next to him. You could barely look at him without your throat closing up. He wasn’t doing so well either. His closest confidant was avoiding him and it was taking its toll. Dedue thought the king was getting sick. A dark circle was appearing under his eye that most people hadn’t seen on him for years. The guilt of that certainly wasn’t making you feel better. And it was so cold in the capital without his arms around you at night...

Goddess, and it was all because of an infant. A poor, helpless baby without a family. A quiet child who you hadn’t heard cry since she got here, who had done no wrong, and had nowhere to go. It was not to be mentioned, lest more of the public demand that the royal family take in more children - which the King would have done without hesitation if his wife was not incredibly unhappy with him at the moment, but the babe was staying in the nursery until further notice. Still unbelievably conflicted, you couldn’t find it in your heart to send the poor orphan off without at least trying to find accommodations for her. That would have been evil.

The Crown Prince was widely known to be an angel of a child, and personally took it upon himself to check on the baby girl in any bit of free time he had. He was also making sure that his parents were okay. He might have been the only thing keeping his father together. He would take the King by the hand, and would reassure him that “It’s okay to be sad sometimes...” Truly, the world did not deserve such a dear boy.

“Are you in papa still fighting?” He asked you over a cup of tea, his lips twitching into a frown.

_ FUCK. _ If your six year old could pick up on the coldness between the King and Queen, then other people definitely could. “We aren’t... We’re not fighting, Lammy.” Your fingers tapped idly on the side of your tea cup... Poor manners on your part, “We’re just... not speaking right now.”

“You two should talk again. Then you’ll feel better.” The golden haired prince leaned across the table, trying to fight through his troubled expression, “You’re happier when you’re together...”

You let out a heavy sigh. The kid was sharp, but he was also upset that his parents weren’t doing well. You missed your husband terribly, and you couldn’t stand making your little boy anxious... “Okay Sweetheart.”

You woke up again in the library, once more at unpleasant hours in the dark. You tossed and turned on your chaise lounge, before finally deciding it was definitely a piece of furniture meant to read in, not to sleep on. You figured you would take a walk and see if that tired you out at all.

There were plenty of halls to stroll through in the palace - the place was huge. Much like the monastery, there were hidden passages everywhere, not that you used them much. It was probably for the best that you didn’t, or else every guard in the building would lose their damn mind at where you could have gone. There wasn’t exactly a destination in your mind, you were just letting your feet carry you. And you walked, and walked, and walked, and before you knew it you were standing in the doorway of the King’s Study. There was His Majesty, scribbling away at some paperwork by candle light at his desk.

“What are you doing up so late?” You called to him. You hadn’t meant to do that, but you could not help but worry, knowing his occasionally non-existent sleep schedule.

You both stared at each other, both clearly surprised to see the other person, and even more surprised that you had said anything. Dimitri mercifully answered you, and destroyed the awkward silence before it got worse. “... Sleep evades me, so I thought I would get some work done.”

He looked exhausted, you noted as you came to his side. Unsure of yourself, you rested a hand on his shoulder, a comforting touch he almost melted into. “Go back to bed, Dima...”

“Will you be there if I do?” His hand crept up over yours, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. He missed you. He missed his wife, who’s mere presence reminded him that his nightmares weren’t real, and who was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and had given a family that he loved more than anything else. He didn’t want to go back to sleep, where he was never sure what was and was not in his mind.

“I don’t know...” You weren’t ready for that yet. Just touching him was making your head spin. You were made even more uncomfortable by him turning in his chair to face you.

“It was not my intention to upset you so much.” His arms curled around your waist.

“I know that, Dimitri. I know...” He was so warm and careful with you as always, you could not help but wrap your arms around his shoulders. He would never go out of his way to deliberately upset you. “I just... need some time to think.”

His grip on you tensed ever so slightly, letting you know that your response had pained him.

“No matter what, I love you. You know that.” You couldn’t bear seeing him so distraught. At the very least you could offer him reassurance. You gave him a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Now go back to sleep...”

You slipped away from him with little resistance. He respected your need for space, bless him. You would reconcile in due time. You needed to be around each other to function well. Soon enough, soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooooo weeeeee. Y'all I almost didn't finish this one in time for my schedule. My exams kicked me in the head and ate up my time. I'm currently on (potentially extended) holiday, so hopefully I'll have more time to work comfortably on the next few. That being said, I hope this suffices, Celia!


	20. Ace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ssiyckitten raises us the possibility of an asexual reader insert! Lmao, representing my folk - much appreciated! We’re launching back to the end of chapter 4 of our OG timeline my guys.

_ “Sleep with me.” _ He said,  _ SLEEP WITH HIM _ !!!! Oh. Oh boy. This was... not how you expected this to go. At all. You felt your stomach knotting up. You may have even visibly cringed. And he noticed. “If you find me that repulsive, then you can decline.”

“Your Highness, that is not...” Now, that time you winced for certain. He wasn’t repulsive. He needed a bath, yes, but repulsive? That was just not correct. Aside from the under-eye bag, the man’s face was kissed by The Goddess. You could recognize that, at least. And was he a bit... terrifying, but never directed to you - your safety was never threatened by him, and you knew it would not be. He did not repel you. There was another issue with his request. “Do you remember my, er, ‘disposition’ regarding _ that kind of thing _ ..?” You wouldn’t blame him if he did not recall. The conversation over this had happened years ago!

You and The Prince had a little bit of a tryst going on back in the day, post Goddess Tower. It wasn’t much of a secret to anyone who was even remotely capable of reading the room, but people wouldn’t comment much on it. Your’s was a sweet young love, and people felt like if they pointed out how obvious it was, they would ruin it. They would force you two to realize how socially unaccepted such a relationship would be. 

So they would keep their mouths shut when His Highness would bring flowers to each meeting you had over student’s performances, and they would turn a blind eye to how you would sit on the same side of the table when having tea, and goodness, they would never tell a soul how often you both went riding, just the two of you - which in any other case would have been the biggest scandal of the school year, possibly in kingdom history.

Such an activity could have so, so very easily become such a massive source of gossip. No one knew where you two would go off to, and to add to the intrigue, sometimes you two would ride on the same horse. It took the collective restraint of the entire monastery to not question you both.

Your rides were considerably more mundane than what anyone was imagining, though it could easily stock a rumor mill well, with it’s partial truths. You absolutely loved the days when you rode together. Given the long skirts you wore, you would sit side saddle, and The Prince would keep you secure with an arm around your waist, and you would happily rest your head against his chest. Sometimes you would doze off from the gentle pace and canter of the horse, breathing in the scent of the prim and proper prince. Riding was how His Highness cleared his head, but the destination was a fun little thing for the both of you. You would have a little picnic. You would ride out with a basket of goods, lay a cloth in a beautiful field of golden grass, and you would lounge the afternoon away.

It was almost like a game for the two of you. You would pack an exceptionally  _ creative _ variety of foods, and then you would test to see which ones Dimitri could actually taste. So far you had figured that his tongue responded to various types of cheeses, Onion Gratin Soup (but only on the first bite), and Sautéed Jerky. His favorite things by smell were Saghert and Cream, and Sweet Bun Trios, but you suspected this was for purely nostalgic reasons. The taste and scent of those two was far too subtle for him to detect such a thing in great detail.

One particular day, you were doubling down on the samplings of some chocolaty foods. Chocolate croissants, chocolate cakes, chocolate fruit tarts. He was able to taste the extremely sugary tart for about a fraction of a second. You would call it a win, for now. “Do you think if we overload more foods with sugar and spices you would be able to taste them better?”

“I do not think I understand the science behind nerve endings enough to answer that.” Dimitri shrugged, setting his pastry aside. “You would know better than I would.”

“I’m still learning, but it sounds like something I could look into.” You twisted on the blanket to face The Prince. 

“Hold on a moment,” He bit back a small grin, and reached into the basket for a napkin.

You were stock still as His Highness wiped a smudge of chocolate from the corner of your lips. The gesture set your heart fluttering, and sent you into a nervous giggle. He thought your laughter was cute, and joined in with his own subdued chuckle. You were two dumb, adorable teenagers, having a moment.

And when that moment was over, Dimitri had pulled you in for a sweet and gentle peck on the lips. You had both been getting less clumsy with your affection for each other, mostly meaning you had figured out how to hold the other person. He had been learning that he could hold you without every bone in your body shattering on contact, and you had figured out you could grab something other than his jacket. You enjoyed running your fingers through his hair the most, because it felt like silk. His hand rested on your lower back, keeping you pleasantly close to him, making your heart thunder in your ears. Sweet caresses like that always did with him -

\- Until they didn’t. The loss of feeling was not a new sensation, but it’s growing frequency was causing you great discomfort. It began with his hand coming to rest on your leg without him realizing it over tea. Other times he would pull you into his lap in a certain way when you were sitting alone. You had tried not to let it bother you too much. But this time, your heart felt like it stopped as The Prince’s kiss got rougher, as he pressed you to lay on your back. You turned your head away from him without much thought.

“Is something the matter?” He asked you, bearing down on you, though he had given you the space to breath.

“I... I don’t know.” It was not that you were disinterested in what he was doing - or, you don’t think you were disinterested, but something was off. Something didn’t feel right. You had royalty on top of you. Shouldn’t you have been elated?

“Would you like me to stop?”

“Yes.” The answer came much quicker than you had meant it to, but the worry over sounding rude was drowned under the relief of being able to sit up right once more. Your heart was beating again. You took Dimitri’s hand in yours, giving it a squeeze of, and for reassurance. This wasn’t his fault. And you were pretty sure it wasn’t yours either.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“I didn’t feel uncomfortable...” You suppressed a scoff. He was one of the most respectful people you had ever dealt with. Like hell he made you feel ill at ease. “I just... for a second, I didn’t feel anything.” _ Indifference.  _ That’s what it was! Complete, and utter indifference.

“I apologize. I will not do that to you again.” He was clearly doing his best to mask his confusion and concern for whatever that meant. The ride back to the Monastery was quiet. You leaned into him very close, and you let your heart flutter once more.

You could not shake the thought that there was something wrong with you. Obviously, you learned there wasn’t, but at the time you were plagued with an unease, and discomfort at your own being. You had seen how touchy other couples could be with each other. Were you broken? ... Or did you not love the Prince as much as you thought you did?

Oh fuck that line of thinking! There were few things you could be certain of in life, but you knew for damn sure how much you adored Dimitri. You needed to speak with someone who could read people. You ran to Dorothea one day during free time under the pretense of “girl stuff,” and bless her, she understood your plight almost instantly. You had your extremely important girl talk over a corner table in the dining hall.

“Alright, (Y/N). Run this by me one more time. There’s this boy...”

“There’s this boy that I’m really close with and-”

A smirk spread across her face, “Like...  _ close _ close~?” She was totally going to start drafting a ballad out of this story, not that you needed to know that.

“Yes, like that.” The flush on your face deepened, as did your frowned. “I really, _ really, really, _ like him Dorothea. And I’m pretty sure he likes me back but...”

“But..?” She rolled her fingers, urging you onward.

You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves from how awkward this was going to be for you. “Well, lately when things are...  _ escalating _ ... I just stop emoting? I think?”

“You- Oh.” Her eyes widened a small bit. “I don’t know if I’ve ever heard of anything like that.” She gave you a pat on the shoulder and a ‘there there,’ as you put your head in your hands. “Maybe we should go talk to someone with a bit more knowledge in regards to love...”

You let out an exasperated groan. You came to the young songstress specifically because she was the least embarrassing person to deal with, and she was nice, and pretty, and she had enough experience to qualify her as a ‘love expert’ without saying anything stupid or weird that would upset you. If she suggested talking to Manuela, who was like a mother to you, you would have dropped dead. And if she was going to suggest talking to Sylvain-Compulsive-Womanizer-Gautier, you would have punched Dorothea, and then dropped dead!

“Oh, for the love of...” Suddenly, someone else nearby, someone who was not you, let out another extremely annoyed groan.

“Aw, sorry Lin!” Dorothea called, “We didn’t mean to wake you.”

Everyone’s favorite green-haired narcoleptic raised his head from the next table over, clearly groggy. “Asexual.”

“Sorry?” You blinked. If you had been just a little bit less apologetic about disturbing his catnap, you would have been horrified to realize other people had heard your conversation, thus spreading fodder for the rumor mill.

“You’re an asexual.” He repeated, as though that word meant anything other than a self-replicating cell to you.

“Lin, we have, literally, no idea what that is.” Dorothea was much more equipped to deal with the sleepy lordling than you were, getting him to coax out a complete thought and all that.

“An asexual can range from someone who has no interest in anything remotely sexual, to being outright reppelled by anything involving sexual content.” He rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, speaking in the bored, matter of fact voice of his, “And considering how you react, you’re probably somewhere on the spectrum. Even the way you refer to intimacy as ‘escalation’ instead of getting more phy-”

“Message received, Linhardt now shut up!” You blurted out. Ugh, did he really need to call you out like that?

“Thanks Lin, you can go back to sleep now.” Dorothea was amused by all this at the least, given her persistent smirk. “What do you think, (Y/N)? Does that sound about right?”

You sighed, “Yeah... Yeah, it does honestly.”

Linhardt had put his head back down on the table, “You’re welcome.”

You were begrudgingly in his debt. As your embarrassment left your system, you felt a giddiness growing to replace it. You weren’t broken, or weird. You were a whole thing - a thing recognized by science, and research! You had nothing to be upset over! You thanked Dorothea, and then more quietly thanked Lin, and you set off to go find The Prince.

Tracking His Highness down was actually rather time consuming, since you could not pin down where he was. People had told you different things. It was only when you asked the Professor that you got the correct answer. The teacher had spaced for a hot second, then gave you Dimitri’s exact location. It was odd, but at this point you had more or less accepted that Byleth had some omnipotent knowledge regarding who was where in the Monastery. The longer it took for you to get to the Knights Hall, the more excited you got. 

Your joy boiled over when you turned the corner, and you spotted him looking for a book on the far wall. “Dimitri!” You exclaimed, so jazzed, you had actually sprinted towards him.

He caught you in your running leap, hardly budged by your momentum. “Ah, you seem quite happy, (Y/N)-”

You had cut him off with a smooch, feeling your heartbeat thudding away in your chest. All was as it should be. “I figured it out!” You told him as he gently set you on the ground.

“Figured what out?” The faint red dusting his face reminded you how much you treasured him. He was just as bashful as you could be.

“I know why I’ve been, um...  _ odd _ , when we’re, uh,  _ closer _ than usual..!” You might have been hesitating throughout, but you were on an absolute roll articulating this confusing mess of emotion within you. 

“You’re an asexual, correct?” He watched your eyes widen, having beaten you to the punch. “Oh, I didn’t name you - but I expressed my concerns to Sylvain, and he explained what might have been going on.”

You decided for your own mental health that you would ignore Gautier having any idea about your relationship with the Prince for the time being. “I mean, is that okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay? Do you know what you are still comfortable with? I’d hate to upset you...” This absolute madlad was trying to establish healthy boundaries?! Good Goddess, he was such a sweet boy!

“I’m happy to... I really like it when you hold me, and kisses are fine. I’m not sure how far I can go but. We can learn, right?”

“Right.” He wrapped his hands around yours, giving you a careful, reassuring squeeze.

He answered you with a “Hmph,” He used to be such a darling sweetheart. There was once a softness in his eyes for people. Now that softness was replaced with a bleak glare. It did not ease for you now. You would not describe his expression as annoyed, but his contemplation was accompanied by a stiff grimace. “I had forgotten all about that.”

“I hope you accept my apology, Your Highness, but I don’t think I can do that for you.” You rung your hands, regretting this entire conversation. “Is there something else that you want?

He thought for a moment, and with each passing second you got more and more nervous until he finally told you, “Come here.”

With that, you dared to step closer, secure in the knowledge that if you had survived this long, he probably wasn’t going to kill you now. He stretched out a hand for you, taking you by the shoulder. You stared up at him with doe eyes, and for the first time since you had approached him, his face softened.

You did your best not to squeak in surprise as he yanked you in to him, pulling you in for what you realized was a hug. You could feel it in the way that his arms curled around your waist that he was desperately trying to restrain himself.

He was completely and utterly touch starved.

For the first time in a long, long time, you were aware of just how hard your heart was beating. You found the pity within you to return his grasp.

“I suppose I am content with just this...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh to be young again!
> 
> A lot of my classes have been made remote, workload scaled down and all that. So I suppose I've got the time to pace myself more with writing. I liked this request. I've never had to articulate asexuality before, but having to write it out may have given me some new ways to explain it to people. I hope this is what you were lookin' for!


	21. Tea Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from Call_For_Senpai - Some bonding between the reader and professor, featuring Dimitri. I’ve elected to keep this one as pre-timeskip, if that's alright. CUE THE TEA TIME MUSIC!

When Professor Byleth initially began his sprint towards you, you had automatically assumed you had done something wrong. Perhaps you had forgotten to grade some of the papers he had asked you to deal with, or maybe he was just having a bad day and you were an easy victim. It was neither of those things - he was just bad at facial expressions. He actually ended asking if you wanted to sit for a cuppa with him. Sure, fuck it. Why not? You technically worked for him - it would do you some good to bond a bit.

“Thank you for inviting me,” You told him politely as you sat with him in the courtyard. He even brought a tray of tea cakes with him. How sweet! You did not reach for anything yet, however. Your etiquette teachings dictated that you did not do anything until expressly offered. You elected to keep your hands folded in your lap for the time being.

“Have some tea,” The Professor offered, gesturing to the cup he placed before you. “Do you like chamomile?”

“Oh, I do quite like this blend.” You smiled. Given how much time you had been spending with The Prince as of late, you had been drinking quite a bit of chamomile, and had grown fond of it. Sort of a positive association, you supposed. You took the teacup in your hands and went in for a sip. “Nice and toasty...”

Byleth watched you set the cup down, and he began plotting his conversation tops as you stared at him expectantly.  _ “I heard some gossip... _ ” He began. Your eyes widened - you were drawn into the conversation with that alone. “Ingrid and Felix are fighting right now.”

“Oh?” Hey, you were a teenage girl. You fucking loved gossip. “Things were a bit tense today during lecture... Do you know why they’re upset with each other?”

“I only caught part of their conversation, but... Felix told her to ‘go find a husband,’”

“He did not!” Your jaw dropped so far, it might as well have hit the table. “That’s awful! Especially given that her fiance was-” You stopped yourself. It wasn’t your business to exposition dump the kingdom’s tragedy to the teacher. “Especially Ingrid’s circumstances with suitors...” You made a mental note to find an excuse to hit Felix sometime in the near future.

That was as far ahead as Byleth had thought in terms of subjects. You had closed your eyes to get another sip in, and he took this time to look around wildly for inspiration. And he found it in the form of two shades of purple. _ “The Courtyard Couple...” _ He murmured.

“Hm?” You followed his eyeline, landing on your favorite introvert, and the Ashen Wolves house leader.

“Did you know that Bernadetta and Yuri were friends as kids?” The Professor asked in the hopes of the conversation getting lively.

“Bernie knows the bloke from the basement with the killer eyeshadow?”

“Yeah - but it turns out he was actually an-” It was his turn to stop. That wasn’t something that was his right to tell people. And technically, he wasn’t supposed to know about it yet either.

“Ah, you’re gonna leave me hanging on that one...” You sighed and reached for a pastry. “I suppose I shouldn’t pry.”

The Professor went absolutely scrambling through his empty, empty mind for another topic that might have been relevant to you, or at the very least interesting. “Have you had any... _ Gardening Mishaps...? _ ”

“OH!” You almost hacked up your teacake. You choked it down, and then slammed your hand on the table, “Professor, have I got a story for you!”

The teacher practically leaned across the table - the conversation was about to get lively for real this time.

“I was with His Highness and Dedue in the greenhouse the other day. And given the weather, there is quite a bit of pollen in the air. The three of us are sneezing like mad.”

He nodded, urging you to keep going.

“His Highness was against the wall, using it to keep his balance as he’s tending to some sword liles. And his crest triggers mid sneeze.” You weren’t even halfway done with your teacake, but you had to put it down so you could collect yourself. “The strength of the sneeze sends him sideways, and he rams head first into the wall.” You slammed your fist down on the table a few times, trying and failing to contain your laughter. “He was out cold, and when Dedue noticed, he actually screamed.”

Byleth was surprised by the normally neutral Dedue emoting that hard. “What did that sound like?”

“Honestly, it was a bit higher pitch than I expected!” You answered. “The Prince was alright, but I still can’t get over seeing it all happen,”

What happened next was going to stick with you for the rest of your life. Byleth  _ laughed. _ Like, really, genuinely knocked his head back and was practically cackling. You had never heard anything like it. And seeing it before you - the man with the emotional range of a twig, laughing so hard was throwing you for a hell of a loop. You were happy for him, you supposed?

You began to laugh again as well - although this was much more of an uncomfortable chuckle than The Professor’s was. “Hahaha what the fuuuck...”

As his final action, he took a sip of his own tea. This was an absolutely  _ Perfect Tea Time. _ He took this time to really study you closely, again slightly leaning across the table. As he bantered with you, he noticed you were blushing.

“Professor...” You grumbled. He seemed to take the hint, and he stopped what he was doing. Thank the Goddess. “Thank you for having me, this was a lot of fun!”

It was around this time that His Highness had rounded the corner, “Ah, (Y/N), Professor!”

“Dimitri. How’s your head?” Byleth asked.

“How’s my-” The Prince narrowed his eyes at you before sighing, “My lady, how many times are you going to recount that mess?”

“When it stops being hilarious, Your Highness.” Based on The Professor’s odd reaction, that might have been sooner, rather than later. Jokes die with time, fair enough. You were thinking about that instead of the way he had addressed you. “Did you need something?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I have a list of questions from students over today's lecture.”

You sauntered over, and peered at the piece of parchment in his hands.

The Professor did what he did best, he observed. He watched you lean into the prince, who stretched his arm out a bit further so you could both scan the page. It was... Positively adorable. If he had to put a grade for it, Byleth would give your closeness a B+... He could totally make it even better if he just built a little bit more support... “Why don’t you two discuss that over dinner. Let’s go eat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Local teacher ships his students and will do anything he can to force them to spend time together so that their blossoming romance can truly flourish. What do you think? Did you and teach have a good time?


	22. All the Want in All the World: (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen has once more called upon me - nay, summoned me, for I am the main plug for this kind of thing. We’re doing some timeskip, not feral, DimaXReader smut. I hope this is what you were looking for. Get ready for that good ole’ “Rachelthehero Brand ‘Tasteful?’ Nonsense Where I Just Kinda Gloss Right on Over the Unsavory Stuff While Still Acknowledging That it’s Happening™.”

So... The Kingdom Army has retaken Arianrhod. That was pretty cool! And your dear army had, to put a technical term to it,  _ ahem, _ “yoinked” Fhirdiad back from the clutches of the Dukedom as well. Score. Your alma mata, the School of Sorcery, had survived Cornelia’s rule as well, thank the Goddess. With His Highness back in his right mind, things were really going right, and going well.

But, for all that was going the way everyone wanted it to, there were a lot of things that really weren’t helping... Cornelia had left her captured territories in complete and utter disarray. The taxes she had levied were similar to that leveraged against the Hrym territory after they failed to join the Alliance. The small folk were starved without grain imports from the Empire, and despite being allied with them, she did not allow anything through. And at least three different plagues had blazed through the region, and she had done absolutely nothing to aid the common people. That last one had personally irked you in particular, having lost a family member to a mystery pestilence. This left the True Kingdom administration to scramble and catch up so that it could deal with all of the chaos, on top of finishing the war properly.

The Prince was exhausted. He worked day and night to aid his people. “I’m making up for lost time,” He had said once in jest, but that was clearly more profound and true than he may have meant it to be. Even from the Monastery, he was tirelessly trying to provide for the citizens of his home. It was admirable of him, though it did cause you worry.

Meanwhile, you were snug as a bug in a rug, laying in his bed. He sure as hell wasn’t using it, and your old room was still,  **still** , under rubble (how many months had it been? And the Knights still hadn’t dug it out yet!) He didn’t mind you staying there anyway, given how sweet on you he was - there was a ring on your finger that basically said what was his was yours. So, you were catching some Z’s in his underutilized bed. Or, you would have been doing that if Sylvain Jose Gautier was not making a hell of a racket next door. The bastard knew His Highness wasn’t in the room, so he had taken the opportunity to finally get some of his own  _ stress relief _ in. He and the girl didn’t see any reason to even attempt to be quiet, and you were fucking dying.

You didn’t need a mirror to know how red in the face you were from their nonsense. Your heartbeat was doing a fine enough job telling you how second-hand embarrassed it was making you, nevermind some _ other signs _ . There wasn’t much you could do in response either. Banging on the wall didn’t seem like a viable option, given how long they had been at it - if you had notified them of your presence, things would have gotten even more awkward. But like hell you were going to sit there and keep listening to them. Everything you had already heard had made you feel beyond flustered, and extremely dirty.

You begrudgingly decided that you would go take a walk, wait it out, and pray to the Goddess that those horny bastards weren’t going to go for another round so you could finally go the fuck to sleep. Unfortunately, by the time you got to the end of the hall, your blood was flowing to the point that you were wide awake. Great. Just great.

Your walk got longer than you had anticipated. You meandered from the dormitory second floor, towards the great hall, and you realized that your feet were likely carrying you to the library. Well, maybe you could do some light reading for an hour or two before making the attempt to go back to bed? Nothing will knock a person out faster than some good old, positively riveting passages from _ Histories of the Imperial Nobility From Early to Mid Antiquity. _ Then again, bashing yourself over the head with a rock would likely achieve similar results... Lucky for you, you realized the Infirmary was on your way, so you decided to poke your head in the door there to kill time instead. Mercedes was working the night shift. You chatted with her for a bit, things being relatively quiet on the injury front. She was the one who suggested you jump next door to the Captain’s Quarters, where the Prince was, of course, doing some paperwork.

“But... the door was closed.” You told her.

“... And?” She smiled. “Go keep him company.” That was probably the nicest and most subtle way anyone had ever kicked you out of a room. It didn’t click that she was playing wingman for you to your own fiance. So you tiredly shuffled to the next room over, and you gave a soft knock on the door.

“You may enter.” A familiar voice answered. How very kingly of him. In you went, closing the door behind you. His handsome face glanced up from the parchment in his hands. “(Y/N), why on earth are you up so late?”

“You know, I could ask you the same thing.” You strode across the room like you owned the place, and you sat down on the edge of the desk he was working on. Working. Working. Working. By candlelight, and down an eye. The man was just non-stop. At least he was wearing normal clothing. Doing paperwork in armor didn’t sound like much fun.

“I’m awake for obvious reasons.” Ever the gentleman, he shuffled a few papers around to give you more room on the table, but also further emphasizing his point.  _ Work. _ “Is something the matter?”

You sighed. Life wasn’t too bad, except for the fact that your heart really hadn’t settled down at all - you still felt rather dirty, may as well vent about it. “Well, Sylvain knew you weren’t around, so he decided to have a friend over... She’s got quite the set of lungs on her.”

It took him a second or two to process what you had said to him. When it finally sank into him that the lordling was ‘back on his bullshit,’ Dimitri almost slammed the pages in his hands down in a fit of exasperation. “That skirt-chasing son of a-”

“Whoa there, it’s not good for a sovereign to cuss.” You jokingly scolded. “We could tell Ingrid in the morning, let her set him straight.”

“I would do exactly that, if I didn’t need him in good enough condition to fight...” He offered you his own defeated sigh, “I apologize for him keeping you up tonight.”

“That’s hardly your fault.” At this point, other things were keeping you wide awake. With the paper gone, you had realized that his shirt was partially undone. To say that His Highness was buff was the understatement of the century. The man was absolutely shredded, and you had a fairly decent view at present.

“Are you alright? You’re looking a bit red...”

“I’m fine...” Oh, how you adored the Prince. Not only was he easy on the eyes, but he could be so sweet. His concern for you was just precious. If he wasn’t in the middle of something, you would have tried to get him to hold you. He was always so warm, and safe feeling, and you took any opportunity you could to wiggle your way into his arms. Though you had to be subtle about it. Chaste, secretive kisses here and there was the best you could do. It wasn’t that you were trying to hide the relationship, it was just that you couldn’t get away with much in your fleeting alone time, at the risk of being unbecoming.

His brow furrowed, “Are you certain?” This time he really set his papers aside and he stood from his seat. “You’re practically panting.”

Oh damn it all, now you were distracting him. Your breathing was getting rather heavy, a sudden anxious feeling welling in you. Maybe you just needed to get this sudden desire out of your system.

He stood before you, bringing a careful hand to your forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, but you are still a bit warm.” He went to pull away, but you caught his arm in time to get him to cradle your cheek instead. 

“I’m fine, Dimitri.” You leaned into his hand, pleased to have him close, and trying to cut him off from potentially sending you away.

He bent himself lower so that his face could be level with yours “Were you just trying to lure me closer?”

“Not intentionally...” You admitted. This did still feel like a step in the right direction. You straightened yourself up a bit so that you could offer him a quick peck on the lips. “Take a break, Dima...”

How persuasive of you... “If you insist...” He turned the peck into a more full kiss, giving you a healthy reminder that you were engaged to him, and you could be a bit more open with your wants.

Speaking of wants, kissing him did not ease your rapid heartbeat, nor did it cool you down. All in all, you had seemingly exacerbated the issue. It was possible that he could have felt your pulse in your fingertips. And yet, you made no effort to stop. Neither did he. You only paused to let each other breathe.

You had wrapped an arm over his shoulder, and he eased to the pull, bearing down on you more and more. Before long he stood between your legs, one hand on your back keeping you pressed against him, the other hand came to your thigh. His fingers trailed gently up and down your leg, his caution apparent in his touch.

_ Wanting. _ You had figured out why your heart would not rest. On instinct, your legs wrapped around him in another attempt to be close. 

In an impulsive response, he squeezed your thigh, suddenly pulling you to the edge of the desk, squaring your hips against his. Dimitri let out a slight grunt, coming to his senses it seemed. “Are we really doing this here..?” The flush on his face was so much more subtle than yours. He had trouble with expressions but you knew it was there. You could see it faintly in the candle light.

“... We don’t really have any other time together...” You missed his lips on yours already, “Unless we want to be on par with Sylvain, but I would rather not...”

“Fair. Are you certain that you are alright with this though?” He was referring to where you were.

“I... Yeah?” To have your first time with your dear fiance in what was effectively an office, of all places, did seem a bit less than ceremonious. “Uh- Yes, this is fine for me. Um... How about you?”

“My Beloved,” He leaned in a bit closer, fooling you into believing he was going to kiss you again. In the last moment his head tilted, his breath now burning your neck,“The only part of this that matters to me  _ is you _ .”

The Prince probably had no idea how that sounded, knowing him. He had you blushing like a schoolgirl with that! Well, smooth speaking aside, his hand on your leg had crept up the skirt of your nightgown. You could feel him smile against you as you shifted to allow him to strip away your underclothing. Your nightgown stayed on, just in case someone came by. You threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him to you as he pressed his lips to your neck.

His hand brushed from your legs between you, as he undid his breeches. You noticed a shift in the way he was breathing. It was slowing down. It was deliberate. He was hesitating slightly.

“It's okay.” You whispered. You felt the hand on your back clench onto the fabric of your gown. And then he entered. It was... A lot. He was a lot... You immediately buried your face into his shoulder, trying to quiet yourself. It did not hurt. Perhaps you had wanted this more than you already thought.

It felt like he froze against you, “(Y/N)..?” He went no further, worried for how you reacted.

You took a second to collect yourself, murmuring into him, “Dima, I’m alright.”

“I... I don’t...” With a slight pause, he pulled back to get a look at your face. “If I’m not careful I may break your hip.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. This was... positively ridiculous! You laughed your way into another light kiss, which slowly became more as your legs, still wrapped around him, pulled him into you further, “I know you won’t hurt me.”

He took a deep breath and deeper he went. You were okay. You told him so. No broken bones now. No broken bones later. Between sweet kisses, and ins and outs, he whispered something to you.

“Hm?”

“I love you.” He repeated slightly more audibly. His breathing was still heavy, but there was no hesitation now.

You could only blather the line back to him, breathless from all that he did. He had yet to give you a minute to stop blushing. The first coherent thought you managed to say to him was, “We’re gonna get married...”

“Yes...”

“We’re getting married..!” You told him again with more insistence in your pitching voice. Yes, yes you were! It was almost odd how little it came up in your thoughts. That was a bit of a big deal! You were marrying into royalty! You were having a lot of trouble thinking about much of anything other than your dearest fiance. Just him.

“That was the plan, yes...” His affirmation was punctuated with a soft grunt. How he delighted in how you felt around him.

“Dimitri...” You were practically gasping in his arms. Your heart could have exploded. He was warm. So warm. “My Dimitri...”

He groaned as you mewled out his name. He was trying to be restrained. That hand wrapped in the fabric of your gown, he kept letting go, wanting to press you against him. Logic would hit him each time, your safety outweighing further fulfillment of desire. He was feeling plenty of you. Keeping his fingers wrapped in cloth was a concession he was alright with making. The way you said his name meant everything. He wasn’t a king to you. He wasn’t a monster. He was just-

“Dimitri..!”

For a split second he thought he had hurt you, with the way you had yelped, only to be corrected by the way you tightened around him. A sudden bashfulness hit him, as he realized he had brought you to climax.

“You can keep going,” You huffed, still reeling, but unwilling to let him lose his own momentum, “I'm fine.”

He wasn’t too far behind you, if he was going to be honest with himself. He just hadn’t realized it between trying not to break your spine, or shove the desk across the room. His priorities were in a good order, wouldn’t you agree? Another groan escaped him.

Your chest heaved against him. So this was intimacy, huh? You could feel the care he was taking for you, trying so desperately not to cause you harm. You could feel your thigh bruising slightly, but it was well worth everything else. He seemed to enjoy this, and that made you even happier.

Between another series of kisses, you felt your name on his tongue. His fingers twitched slightly, and then he broke from you, “(Y/N), what... where should I..?”

Oh dear! At this point, you would blush for the rest of your life. How were you going to let this end? You told him once again, “We’re getting married...”

“I know, I know but-”

“No, no, it’s okay.” It was really difficult to elaborate on this, because you were rather exhausted at this point, and no less flustered than you had been before. “You can- um... it’s fine if you... y’know, because we’re engaged..?”

He blinked, er, winked, before his eye widened in realization. “Oh! R-right...” He almost chuckled, “That’s right..! Are you alright with that..?”

You took that question in, looking at the slightly flushed face of your best friend, and his pretty golden hair, as his careful grip surrounding you. “Yes...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The irony of writing this one so soon after ace reader is just absolutely not lost on me. If anything, I find it absolutely hysterical. Alas, writing smut is still such a daunting task. I literally cannot comprehend any of this. Every time I write one of these, my search history gets full of shit like “How to write smut?” And every time I read the answers I’m like - “No, that sounds dumb/gross - that’s not physically possible - who the fuck talks like that?” And then mid-draft I’ll type something down and I’ll go, “Oh I like the way that line reads...” And then I realized I liked it because I had written it at some point before. UGGGHHHHH. “Blinked, er, winked,” is still my favorite gag I have written in any of these though - I refuse to give that one up to rewrites.   
> Anyway sex is icky and tricky to write, but human emotions aren’t, which is why I think I prefer to focus on them more.  
> To give the public a bit more insight into my writing process... As you may know, I create a bullet outline for each chapter that I write; story beats to hit, certain lines of dialogue that I want spoken, etc,. One of my notes for this one was “Idk, they bang on a table or something.”   
> Do I do a good job of hiding the fact that I genuinely don’t understand sexual attraction? Who’s to say... Um. You guys are. You guys are to say, because you read it.


	23. Idealogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from MaMinette. We have a reader who is more of a sweetie than most incarnations. She, and His Wrathfulness have some severe ideological differences.

Looking at her made his throat tighten. Her mere presence was infuriating. Irritating. Terrifying. He might have hated her... No... No that wasn’t it. That couldn’t be it. He could never hate her. Never her. Such a feat may not have been humanly possible. But even still, just acknowledging (Y/N) made his chest ache. And the way she would look at him... He had accepted what he was a long, long time ago. Nothing more than a blood stained monster, and nothing less. And yet she looked at him like he was something more. Like he was worth her time. It was once his favorite thing about her - how she could see the good in anyone - in anything. Now it was just an irritating example of just how foolishly naive she could be.

She slept so soundly in his bed, no fear in the way her breath hitched as a beastly killer kept watch on the floor. She refused to leave. No matter how much he growled or yelled, she would not go. She insisted that her research was too important, but it did not mean he could not see that at times he made her afraid. Still (Y/N) would blink the sleep out of her eyes each day, and she would smile and say, “Good morning,” He never knew what was so good about it.

It was only when there was blood on him that she let her fear show. She never took the implication of violence well. Five years of war in The Kingdom had not chilled a heart as warm as hers. He knew what he was. He was a demon. He understood that now. He didn’t believe that- or rather he did not want to believe that years ago. He had tried to deny the fact for as long as he could, because he was meant to be the perfect prince. One of the earliest cracks in the facade was caused by...

_ The Blue Lions had dispatched a band of thieves. Even at the time, he would have had to do some complicated mental math to say that the brigands had not deserved to be erased. They had burned at least three villages before they were finally put down. Their body count was in the hundreds. He had tried not to revel in their demise, but this was justice, plain and simple. _

_ Or so he thought until they returned to Garreg Mach. She was helping to direct the displaced villagers, bringing them blankets, and something to drink. She gave them her soft, reassuring smile, and she promised that the refugees were safe. He adored her. _

_ “Your Highness,” (Y/N) had scurried up to him with wide eyes when he approached, “What on earth happened to you..?” _

_ “Why the concern, my lady?” He was perplexed. He hardly had a scratch on him. “I’m alright,” _

_ “But- but there’s so... Your Highness, you’re coated in-!” Her fingers lit up with a gentle white light, which she brushed over his shoulder and neck, and she lessened her voice to a whisper, “In blood..!” _

_ “It isn’t mine.” He had meant for that to be a reassuring statement, trying to prevent her from wasting a healing spell on him. He hadn’t realized how menacing his word choice was until the light coming from her hand had died suddenly. _

_ Her mouth had been agape, though she quickly corrected herself, “Oh, I see!” Her hands had left him at an impressive speed. She cleared her throat, “Ple-please, go get cleaned up, and then come help us with the survivors...” _

_ He gave her a slight bow, “Of course,” He returned to his dorm room, and he had rinsed the blood of at least ten men from his face, changed his clothes. No evidence left behind. _

_ She had been casual with him after that. Like nothing had happened at all... But that look she gave him at first... He had done something wretched, hadn’t he? He had been monstrous, and it had hurt her.  _

_ It was all downhill from there. _

He had changed a frightening amount since. He had grown numb to the shame he had felt back then. But (Y/N) had hardly changed a bit. She only shied away from him if it was clear he had been on a rampage. Gentle, and bubbly, and kindly as ever. She would trail after him after getting dressed, sometimes struggling to keep up with him as he stormed away from her, asking him if he wanted her to make breakfast, or she would comment on how nice the weather had been lately and every once in a while she would ask, “Do you want to come to town with me?”

And no, no he did not want to go into town, it was the last thing he wanted to do! He did not want to see living faces of suffering, he already had enough guilting stares chasing him. He wanted to kill. He needed the bodies of the vile to pile higher and higher - the imperials and the thieves and the rats had to be punished and they would pay for their crimes in their own blood - but he sulked after her as she sauntered to the village beneath the monastery. With all the charm she had when she was young, she had endeared herself to the townsfolk, and she would treat their ill and injured as best she could when she was there. He would follow. If she went alone, there was a chance she could be attacked on the way. He would not allow that. In any other case, he would have seen it as a waste of time - time he needed to butcher the wretched and serve justice in the best way that he could while appeasing the dead - but he couldn’t let her get hurt. 

She looked so happy when he let her go about the village holding onto his arm...

(Y/N) was foolish. Although if he had tried to express this to her, which was hardly his strong suit these days, she likely would have defended herself with the claim that she was ‘a pacifist,’ If anyone else had answered like that, he would have called them a coward - a coward who patted themselves on the back and let the innocent suffer and die so that they could claim how virtuous they were - but she did not let the small folk languish. She did all she could for them. Even the ones who didn’t deserve her mercy. And that was what made her a fool.

The bastard stumbled upon her as she tended to some fruit in the greenhouse, collapsing just outside the doorway. Startled, she called upon the prince, and she begged him to bring the unconscious man up to the dining hall. It was obviously a brigand, and thus he refused to help him. He drew a blade, only for her to grab the man and shield him.

When questioned over defending a rat, (Y/N) brought up the hippocratic oath. She was bound by her honor and duty to treat the man, no matter how undeserving he seemed. He knew she would have helped the bastard whether she had taken an oath or not. He was compelled to relent. He barely remembered what it felt like to have pity, but this feeling in his chest almost reminded him of the sensation. It wasn’t for the rat.

What did her kindness get her? A painfully deep wound on her arm. He had left her for mere moments to get her some bandages to secure the restored laceration on the brigands hip. She had sent him because she didn’t trust him alone with the type of beast he vilified with little rationale. It was a fair move, he would admit. Unfortunately he was correct in his assumptions. He heard her yelp in pain from the hall, but by the time he got there, the brigand was gone, and (Y/N) was clutching her arm closely. The bastard had attacked her when he woke.

He dropped the bandages by her side so that she could treat herself, “Which way did he go!?” He also knelt so that he could verify that her arm was the only injury.

She had begun to wordlessly wrap her cut

His heart rate quickened as he was now close enough to see the wound. She hadn’t had a single scar on her before this. She didn’t fight. There was no need to do her any harm. She probably hadn’t made any attempt to fight back. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. - The rat had to pay for what he did to her he would pay with his life and he would suffer until his last breath for what he had done - “Answer me!”

She winced, the bandages stinging the cut, “I will not have anyone dying on my account...”

He was stunned into a silence. She was just going to let the rat go. - The rat that could have killed her in an instant the rat that he needed to go kill now before it hurt anyone else which he could not allow he would not allow the innocent to be struck down and the dead willed him on - “Tell me!” He slammed his hand down on the stone floor, shattering the area of impact.

She jumped with a start.

He got quiet - he didn’t mean to do that he didn’t mean to frighten her like that he didn’t mean to he didn’t mean to he didn’t mean to - “... Fine, I’ll let him go...”

He didn’t feel more comfortable with what happened until she had asked him to help her tie her bandage in place. Seeing her smile, something that normally stirred an anxiousness in him that he did not care for in the slightest, had brought him ease. He thanked the goddess, for the first time in a very, very long time... Perhaps the brigand would stay away.

Now, what did his emulation of her mercy get him? Nothing but disappointment. Nothing but regret. Nothing more would have had to happen if he had just killed the rat the first time.

The rat hadn’t seen him. It had likely assumed that she was a lone woman holed up in the monastery. It knew she wouldn’t have fought back, because she hadn’t tried the last time. She had healed the rat’s near fatal wound, and it returned the favor by bringing more rats to raid the place, to threaten her.

Again, they found her in the greenhouse around sundown. He remembered (Y/N) liked gardening, but it was taking her longer than normal thanks to her injury. One could have described his feeling as worry, when she hadn’t appeared to ask him to come eat. He went looking for her.

“This isn’t necessary.” He heard her even voice as he crept closer, “Take what you need, and then leave.”

There were scrapings of a metallic ringing in the air. More than one person was drawing a weapon. He hastened his pace, but he needed to be silent to maintain the advantage of surprise.

“Do not threaten me, please.” She was still so patient with her tone. She was not afraid, she was still attempting to be diplomatic. “I cannot guarantee your safety if he-” He heard her yelp, there was a thud indicating she had hit the ground, and then everything went red.

There would be no more mercy for this wretched lot. He charged into the greenhouse with a silver sword and he cut the achilles tendon of the rat closest to the door. Its cry of pain alerted the other two. He drove the blade into the next beast, clear through it’s hip. No killing blows, not yet. He was immobilizing them first. The last one, the one that had been lording over (Y/N), the one that had dared do her harm, had attempted to come at him with a knife. With no more effort than raising his hand, he caught the rat by the wrist. He hardly clenched down before it’s bones began to shatter. It crumpled to its knees.

“Oh Goddess no...” She struggled to stand after they had seemingly knocked the wind out of her.

It sputtered in it’s pain as he further reduced it’s forearm to nothing more than dust.

“St-stop it..!” She coughed, “You don’t have to do this to them..!”

He smiled as the dead roared with laughter. They were happy. **They were happy** . The beast screamed in agony. He raised his sword, and let the edge rest in the crook of its neck. He wanted it to know what was coming. Red began to drip without the slightest bit of pressure. A testament to the blade’s craftsmanship.

“Don’t-!”

Her plea came too late, and it hardly meant a thing to him. The damned were pleased as he carved a line through the neck and into the chest of the beast. His grin persisted with a grim satisfaction as it choked on it’s own blood. He turned to the remaining two creatures. They couldn’t walk any more.  **Perfect.**

She covered her mouth to contain a cry of fear. “No, no, no..!” She stumbled forward, trying to grab him by the blade arm, “Enough!”

He batted her away like she was nothing. He had no intention of hurting her, but the shove he gave to keep her away sent her tumbling backwards. He would have to check on her afterwards, but he had more beasts to dispatch. The further she was from this, the better.

The one he had pierced through the hip of was on its knees. It’s breathing was deliberate. Sweat was beading on its ashen skin. It was in shock.  _ A pity, _ he thought. It wouldn’t feel as much pain as he wanted it to.

He gave it a kick in the ribs, and it landed on it’s side, exposing it. Their armor wasn’t very good. Maybe they were new to this life, then again, he didn’t consider that particularly relevant. He jabbed his blade downward, through the armor, and tore through it’s flesh like it was paper. It wasn’t a killing blow. If it couldn’t feel pain, he at least wanted it to know that it was going to bleed out on the ground like it deserved to.

His head turned to the last rat, trying to drag itself away on its stomach. Coward. Leaving it’s companions to die alone...

“S-Stop it! Stop!” (Y/N) screamed at him. The poor woman. Years of war, and she still couldn’t bear to see anything like this. But, this was for her sake. Three fewer pieces of filth jeopardizing the safety of her, and everyone like her in this cruel world.

He walked after the rat. She was still on the ground, she wouldn’t be able to interfere again. He put a foot on the beast’s back, pinning it in place. How to dispose of this wretch? He didn’t want to just lop it’s head off, that would be far too quick.

“Dimitri please stop!”

That shriek gave him pause. She was so loud that the dead were quieted in her wake... Never mind prolonging this then. He slashed at the beast's thigh, severing the artery. It would bleed out within seconds. He immediately shifted his attention back to her. 

It appeared that she was unable to stand. She just shook on the ground where she had first fallen. It briefly crossed his mind again that he may have injured her. He tried to go back to her, but when he got close enough she screamed again, and the world stopped around him.

She brought her arms in front of her, like she was trying to shield herself from a blow that would not come, but all the while, her eyes pierced through him. Her pupils were like needle points. There was no warmth in them, no reminder from them that he was still human. There was nothing but mortal terror.

She believed that he was going to kill her too.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! He would never. Not her. He needed to get her out of here. He rightfully assumed she wouldn’t be particularly inclined to come with him at the moment. As much as he didn’t want to cause her further distress, he thought his best option was to carry her away. He moved as quickly as he was able, he grabbed her at the waist, lifting her over his shoulder. He kept her legs pinned with his arm to keep her fearful flailing in check. He conceded that his back would be at the mercy of her incessant barrage of fists. He would come back to study their faces later.

She was begging him to put her down, to let her go, and why, why did he do that?! He set her on her feet as soon as they got to his door, unable to bear her wailing any more. She wept for hours, and hours, and hours, and he didn’t know how to get her to stop. He managed to wipe some of the blood that had splattered on her away, but her violent shaking only got worse when he was close. She didn’t want him there, but he could not leave her now. Not when she was so vulnerable.

She didn’t sleep. He had predicted that at some point she would have given in to exhaustion, so long as he stayed on the floor. It didn’t happen as he expected. He hadn’t slept either. He didn’t rest much to begin with, but the sobbing... Every single, little, shallow, hiccup would snap him to attention.

Dawn came an eternity later.

She left the room wordlessly. No “Good morning,” no asking if he wanted anything to eat. She wasn’t going to town that day, for certain. He let her go on ahead. He would keep his eye on her still, but she wanted to be on her own. It wasn’t a good morning. There was nothing good about it. There was nothing good about him.

He could hear her opening each door on her away down the hall, rummaging through rooms long dormant. As he passed them an hour or so later, he had seen that she had stolen some of the sheets from the beds, and had taken clothing from the drawers. The bodies were no longer in the greenhouse when he got down the stairs, but there was a short drag in the blood trails, which had not fully dried from the mess he made.

He finally found (Y/N) in the cemetery. She had wrapped the corpses in old linens, and had pulled them all that way on her own, unable to use one of her arms effectively. She had cloaked herself in extra layers of clothing, covering her arms, gardening gloves on her hands, an old kerchief tied around her face. A precaution for any disease the corpses may have had. She had a shovel in her hands, and she had made a small divot in the ground, slowed by having to stomp the tool head into the earth, unable to use both hands to force it in. She did not look at him when he approached her. Her tears still flowed freely.

“Why..?” He asked her after a silence unbroken by the damned. She would know what he meant. _ Why bother? _

“I don’t care who’s body it is, it’s shameful to leave them like that-” She gave a strained grunt as she tried to force the shovel into the ground again, “People ought to get the dignity of a grave...”

His eye narrowed at that remark. They could have murdered her. They could have done something worse. Filthy rats that had backed her into a corner, and she prattled on about giving them dignity? He scoffed, “They were nothing more than beasts-”

“They were human beings!” She roared at him, full of indignation, and fury, and hurt. “They were human beings, and they deserve a proper burial!” She clenched her eyes to force her tears away faster, faster, faster. She tossed a small bit of dirt to her side, “If you’re too monstrous to respect that, then you should leave me be..!”

_ You’re too monstrous. _ He knew. He knew that very well. She should have known it sooner. But now that she knew for certain, it hurt. It felt like he had been shot. Like he had been shot in the chest. He felt his shoulders droop slightly. That was it then? If a living saint could not forgive him, then there was no redemption for the beast he was.

“I’m sorry Dimitri...” She too wilted over the shovel, coughing out a small sob, “That’s an awful thing for me to say...”

She had nothing to be sorry for. She was right - didn’t she know that she had been right before? He should have told her that, but as it usually did when he looked at her, his throat felt like it was closing up. She shouldn’t have been sorry, and she shouldn’t have been trying to dig graves with an injured arm, “Give me that.”

He swiped the spade from her hands, and planted it into the dirt himself. She couldn’t do this herself. He waved her off before she tried to reclaim this responsibility. It hardly strained him. When the pit was finished she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. He let her, for her own sake. He would do anything to avoid upsetting her anymore than he already had.

He would peel back the sheets, and he would study their features before he covered them with dirt. He needed to remember. He promised himself that he would remember the face of every life he took. That would be one of the only things he could do to atone, before he could sever The Emperor’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thing I was trying to do with this suggestion is to show how Dimitri sees the world. Dialogue is minimal because he doesn’t really care what people have to say. He only hears certain things that he considers relevant. There isn’t much details on different days, because every day is much the same. His thoughts intrude into the more structured paragraphs, and they read like rambling. Idk how well I managed, but I’m hopeful. I also hope this is what you were lookin’ for?


	24. A Happy Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request for the aptly named Dimitri Fan (hey me too). They have asked for a follow-up on our alt-scene presented in A Responsibility Not Our Own. Aren’t we all suckers for a happy ending?

Maybe two more nights past since you had loosely begun your reconciliation with your husband. You wouldn’t consider it making peace, but at least you were on speaking terms again. You were comfortable enough to banter with him across the table at council meetings again, easing the hearts of the lords and ladies of the court. But personal time was a genuine struggle. Extended periods of time with just the two of you? Yikes. You could not bring yourself to stay the night in your bed with him.

Until he followed you to your trusty chaise lounge in the library in the evening. “My Beloved,” He kept a suitable distance between you, as you sat down, receptive to the fact that you still weren’t ready for his physical affection yet.

You stared up at him, struggling over how to greet him - how to greet your own husband! “... Yes?” Oh, oh thank the Goddess, a normal response!

“I think...” At the very least, he was at a loss for words too. He was just as uneasy as you were, though it might have been for a slightly different reason. “Please, go stay in our room.”

You frowned, you didn’t know if you could manage that. You could manage public appearances, not laying down with him! “Dima I...”

“I will go somewhere else, if that is what you wish,” He dared a few steps closer, and he lowered himself to a kneel, which reminded you so greatly of how he would approach you like a knight when you were young, sweet and courtly, and gentle, “(Y/N), you are pregnant. I cannot allow my actions to further distress you.”

You tensed, but relaxed quickly as he reached out to take your hand.

“Please, you must take proper care of yourself.” He paused to wait for you to react, but one did not come as quickly as he had hoped. His voice broke under the pressure he felt, “Please...”

“Where will you sleep, my love?” You could not help but ask. He had trouble sleeping to begin with, for obvious reasons. If someone wasn’t around to convince him he had to stop, he would do paperwork until the sun rose the next morning.

“There are plenty of places to lounge in this palace. You’ve proven that, quite definitively.” He said it with a hint of a smile on his face.

You pursed your lips, he was making fun of you! Or maybe he was just amused by your ability to sleep just about anywhere. You sighed, and stood, leaning down to give him a desperately wanted peck of reassurance. Maybe it would make him sleep better. And you were pleased you could manage such a thing for him. “Goodnight Dima.”

It was nice to sleep in your own bed, you supposed. It was fit for royalty after all. Nice and soft, huge, comfy. But it was cold. Fhirdiad was almost always cold, but this was different. It wasn’t a chill you had felt all that often, beyond that of a frigid night in the north. You didn’t have your personal heater, your dear husband, at your side. And so you stared at Dimitri’s side of the bed until your body gave in to exhaustion.

You did feel more well rested, but... lonely.

You didn’t much care for the feeling of loneliness, and so you joined your husband and son for breakfast. Lammy was positively ecstatic. He did his best to remain proper, and mimic his parent’s manners, but you could see him shaking with excitement. Sweet little boy, he was the main proponent of reconciliation. He just wanted everyone to be okay. You and Dimitri weren’t perfect people, but you two had down a damn good job raising that boy to have a good heart.

So. Pregnancy. That shit sucked. You were passed morning sickness, thank the goddess, but you were currently in the heart of  _ weird cravings, _ which was about as enjoyable as one would imagine not wanting to eat anything to despite being extremely hungry would be. The serving staff were being real darlings about the whole thing, trying to find you something that you could actually stomach. Eventually one of the maids just suggested cutting you up some morfis plums, and you were compelled to agree to speed the day up a little.

Lambert had finished early and had asked to go check on the baby, like he had been doing every day. Things got real awkward after he left, because then it was just you and the king. You made a concerted effort at a jest like you would at a council meeting. “All this trouble just for breakfast...”

“It must be quite an inconvenience,” He replied. It must be quite an inconvenience for him to relate as well, given he still had trouble tasting things, never mind craving an indescribable flavor.

You managed to swallow another plum chunk. It was edible, but it still wasn’t what you were looking for. “Pregnancy is the worst thing you have ever done to me.”

“Ah. Another thing I ought to be sorry for...”

“Oof.” _ Oof. _ **_OOF._ ** The man was trying to be somewhat apologetic, and the only thing you could reply with was _ Oof. _ Now that in and of itself was a big oof. You sighed, “We don’t talk enough these days, do we?”

He set his silverware down. You hadn’t even noticed he had been done eating for some time, “I don’t want to u-”

“You don’t want me to get upset anymore, huh...” You shook your head, “Sometimes you’re too sympathetic for your own good, you know that?” Giving alms whenever he could, taking in an orphaned child, letting his own heart get torn to shreds to spare his wife some grief...

Your poor, heartbroken husband slouched a bit, a look unfit for The Savior King. He needed to be sympathetic, especially after all that he had done. How else was he to atone?

“Give me a few more days to think, okay?” You were still mad. That wasn’t going away so easily, but you missed him so terribly... And you knew his heart was in the right place.

“Okay.”

Okay. Yes. You two would be okay. Maybe not as soon as one would want, but eventually. Things get better with time. His Majesty also left to go check up on the infant, worried that Lambert would pester the maids over her.

_ Aria. _ It was a very pretty name. What were you going to do..? The poor little thing hardly ever kicked up a fuss. You didn’t have anything against her. She was a defenseless babe.

All he had to do was send a letter... You shook your head, trying to rid the thought from your mind. You knew he should have. He knew you should have. That was not on the table anymore.

You had meetings to get ready for. You thanked your house staff for dealing with you, and you crept back to your chambers to dress for the day. On your way back, you had to pass the nursery where the baby was staying at the King’s behest. Someone was audibly humming, likely to the little one. It was an old stage play ballad, something popular in your school days.

“Can I hold her?” Lambert had asked someone.

“Hm,” There was a pause in the song, and His Majesty answered, “I suppose that would be alright. Be very careful, Lambert. She isn’t like you and I.” He had been humming to the infant.

You peeked into the room. Dimitri had crouched before the young prince, helping him cradle a little bundle. Your son looked down at the baby in his arms. “She’s like mama?”

“Yes, she’s like your mother.” The King smiled at his boy. The kid understood his strength, and it made his father proud. It made you proud. A concern for those around him was a good sign for a crown prince. Yes, the future was bright.

You and the King were in a good mood that day.

You wanted to be a bit more doting than usual, to carry that warm feeling in your chest for a bit longer. You decided to go tuck your son into bed. You hadn’t done that for far too long. Well, maybe he was a little old for it... Nah.

“I have couple questions,” He began, as you knelt next to his bed.

_ Please don’t ask me where babies come from. Please don’t ask me where babies come from. Pl- _ “What’s up Kiddo?”

“Are you and father talking again?” He looked up at you, so much hope in his eyes.

“I don’t know, Lammy.” You tugged his duvet up to his shoulders. “I think we’re doing better than we were a few days ago though.”

“Hm, okay.” He was like you, in a lot of ways. A little progress was better than none at all. Not a bad mindset to have this early in life.

“What else is on your mind, my little prince?”

“Well, our rooms all have guards but, why doesn’t the room the baby is in have a guard?”

“Why doesn’t...” You stopped for a moment, a rage suddenly boiling in you. Which racist fuck decided that they didn’t want to do their job tonight because the infant was from Duscur? You growled, “She’s supposed to.”

You gave your little boy a goodnight kiss, and you closed the door, taking a deep breath. You were about to tear someone’s world a-fucking-sunder. You were absolutely furious. Someone defying your husbands orders aside, they were deliberately endangering a child because of their prejudice - a prejudice that the love of your life had dedicated his life to dismantling! Someone was getting their ass kicked by Her Majesty tonight. 

The kid was supposed to have a guard. She had had one each night since she arrived. There better have been a good excuse for this break. If this fucking sociopath decided they could abandon a baby, whos to say they wouldn’t abandon the royal family. Their moral character was certainly questionable enough. You decided to go track down the head of the night shift. Or, you were going to do that, if you didn’t pass the nursery on the way there. You heard wailing.

That was... odd. One of the first things you noticed about her was that she didn’t cry. She was real quiet, no matter what. At the moment, it seemed she was freaking out. If there was a guard there, they would have called for a nursemaid to come deal with it. You stopped in the hall. You were the only person around. And no one else was coming to check on the baby.

You weren’t going to let a helpless babe languish like that, no matter your feelings on her arrival. You opened the door, prepared to sooth the child, when you were met with a shadowy figure hunching over the cradle. They were dressed as one of the palace maids, but as the light from the hall shone into the room, and onto her, you realized you did not recognize her. You knew the staff. You got them Saint Seiros Day gifts. This was not one of your workers.  _ Wait, shit  _ \- No guard, maid you’ve never seen with a knife. She had a knife. Oh Goddess, she had a knife.

Oh fuck, this was a conspiracy.

The woman seemed slightly stunned that anyone had discovered her so soon into her plan unfolding, nevermind it being the Queen of The United Holy Kingdom. It gave you the much needed time to sprint up to her before your awkward standoff gave her time to realize the situation, clock her across the face as hard as you could, grab the baby, and sprint for your life.

“Assassin!” You shrieked at the top of your lungs, “Assassin!”

You booked it down the hall, and back towards Lambert’s room. Back towards guards that were loyal, and who would do their fucking jobs! It wasn’t that you couldn’t turn the one figure into a dust pile if you felt like it, but you didn’t know if she had any accomplices around, and you needed to get the baby somewhere safe. Kingdom Knights came barreling from the opposite direction, and leading the charge was Dimitri and Dedue.

His Majesty swept you up in his arms and let the rest of the troops fly by. Dedue could handle whatever disturbance this was on his own. He was more worried about you. “Please, tell me that you’re alright!”

“I’m fine..!” You pulled back slightly so he didn’t accidentally squish the baby. 

“My Beloved, please don’t cry...”

You could not help but weep. This poor child. This poor defenseless child, who had done no wrong, and had never fussed before this. What kind of monster would even think to harm a hair on her head? This wasn’t her fault. Nothing was her fault.

Lambert was woken up, and the Royal Family was cloistered into one of its many sitting rooms while Dedue and the rest of the royal guard turned the palace inside out looking for conspirators. The entire time, you kept Aria close to your chest. She was okay. You had intervened before any harm befell her. She wasn’t wailing anymore.

Dimitri kept going in and out of the room, getting answers from Knights, and finally from Dedue himself. They found the assassin, and the knight shirking his responsibilities.

You sat, curled up on a couch, your son’s head in your lap. Your husband took a knee before you, like he had down the night prior. “Why did she do it?” You asked him quietly.

His face was twisted in a grimace, his tone grim, “I think you can guess.”

You grit your teeth, “Racist fucks...” They were willing to murder a helpless infant to

revitalize discontent with the reconciliation.

Dimitri frowned. He agreed with your sentiment, but he also really hoped Lambert hadn’t heard that. “They haven’t found anyone else on the palace grounds, so far. I’m glad neither of you are hurt.”

“She’s got good instincts. She knew something was wrong...” You looked down at the baby. “She doesn’t have any family left in Duscur, does she?”

“Her only relative was her grandmother but, she was on death’s door...” He was hesitating with his next statement - a political thought was coming. “If her presence is already known enough for an assassination attempt, trying to send her home could damage reconciliation...”

You had been in the governmental hotseat long enough to have your own political consideration, “Having her here at all makes her look like a political pawn.”

“That is  **not** why I took her with me..!”

“I know that, Dimitri! But, will the people understand that?” You brushed some hair from the child’s face. “... The poor dear...”

Your husband reached out to you, “Do you want me to take her for a little while?”

You curled the babe into you more, “No, I saved her from certain doom, she’s mine now!” 

“She’s yours now?” Despite everything, the king was slightly bemused.

“Yes, she is.” You stated so matter of factly, “After all this strife, if anything happened to her now, I don’t know what I would do...” You rocked her back and forth gently, “So she’s going to stay by my side for now.”

“Oh? So not even I get to help with her?”

“Maybe if you ask first...” You laughed. Yes. Yes, things were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not know how to describe it, but I want you all to know that Dima was humming Edge of Dawn.
> 
> I've got Introvert V ready for next week. And then the one after that is turning out a lot longer than anticipated... I generally aim to have two buffer chapters between updates to give me time to work. Looks like I'm down to one! I sure hope I finish it in time ^_^o (I probably will. Since uni classes are in limbo, I usually have some down time.)
> 
> I hope you folks are staying safe out there!


	25. Introvert V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Kei. Bro. I have been waiting to do a request like this for months - like I actually had a section in my planning document labelled “Dialogue for this specific scenario” lets get right to it.

“Get up.” You heard him say. He wasn’t growling at you, but he was definitely irritated.

You blinked the sleep from your eyes, “What’s wrong..?” You were surprised that it was him of all people interrupting your consecutive seven hours of snoozing, given that he was the one who signed your orders into place.

“Some were spotted near the old chapel...” The more you woke up, the more apparent it became that he was absolutely seething with rage. “So close to the Monastery...!”

“What was spotted?” You gave yourself a few wake-up slaps to the face and stood, getting ready to brush your hair and dress. Looking out the window, it was still dark out. You had probably only been out for a few hours.

“Imperial Scouts. We’re gathering a force to hunt them.” Now he was growling. You motioned for him to turn around so you could maintain your modesty, and avoid getting flustered so early in the morning. He rolled his eye, but did as you wanted, “You are currently one of the only rested medics,”

Well, that meant you were going with them whether you wanted to or not. “I’ll need to gather some supplies...” You finished buttoning up your shirt, and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on your boots.

He was already storming towards the door. “You have **one** hour.”

It left you with a sense of unease when he got snappy towards you, “Y-yes, Your Highness.” You had answered, but he was already gone. Wouldn’t it have been nice to be able to answer him with  _ ‘Okay, Dimitri _ ’? This was already rubbing you the wrong way. You collected a solid stash of bandages, vulneraries (The other medics were hoarding the concoctions), filled some canteens with water, grabbed some fruit to snack on throughout the day, and of course, some bitter, bitter, bitter coffee. Only one mug though, because orders were made specifically to make you as non-destructive as possible.

Imperial troops being seen this close to the Kingdom Headquarters? In the same place where Captain Jeralt was murdered? You would agree with the Prince’s indignation at a potential imperial presence, certainly, but did this not seem suspect to anyone else? What a shame that the one who disliked voicing their thoughts was the one who was suspicious of all this.

It was a small force sent out, but maybe that was for the best. More people being dragged into this mess would have made the retreat worse.

Oh yes. That. Byleth had ordered a retreat quite early on, essentially as soon as he had realized that this small group was dealing with a demonic beast nest under heavy fog. There were so, so many, and given the weather it was indeterminate just how many that really meant. This hunting party was not even remotely prepared for this. False information, bad weather, lots of monsters. This reeked of Empire meddling. Specifically, a trap by good old Hubert von Vestra.

Clever bastard.

You were running yourself ragged trying to keep troops alive as they fled. There came a point where you were forced to lean on The Professor, weakened from repeated blind Fortifies into the mist. At some point he ordered you to switch to Physic, but you were out of charges. You had  _ maybe _ one swig of a vulnerary left, but that was for an emergency. All that was left was some dwindling Heal charges. “Why did you only bring one medic?”

Byleth frowned, “I wasn’t expecting this.”

As far as you were able to see, which granted wasn’t very far, but you were an optimist, most of the troops had gotten away safely, thanks to you keeping them alive. That was also due to the fact that His Grumpiness was going on a full blown rampage against the beasts. Areadbhar was all you could see, glowing, covering the retreat, and swinging with a brutal strength. Good timing too, you were completely drained, and probably unable to cast anymore healing magic for at least a few hours without some kind of consequence. It had been a good few minutes since you had cast under strain, so at least the vertigo had subsided.

The only thing that did not seem to be working out was, no matter how much The Professor called for him to join the retreat, His Highness would not yield. You were both left standing in the fog, being ignored by The Prince. And then, because of course it did, things got worse. There came a new roar from the direction the rest of the expedition had fled to. You watched Byleth’s grip on the Sword of the Creator twitch. “There’s more of them...”

Your eyes flicked between what you could see of Areadbhar, and where you heard the renewed yelling coming from. Fear, rage, battle cries and shrieks. “Professor... you have to go help them.”

“But Dimitri...”

You grimaced. You were worried about him too, but that didn’t mean the troops could be forsaken. “I’ll get him, please, go!” You didn’t enjoy giving orders. You didn’t like raising your voice, but damn it, people were dying!

The Professor looked down at you, with an odd determination in his usually blank expression. “Be careful.”

Those were your orders. You watched his glowing blade fade away into the mist. You turned to the one that you could still see. There was an occasional blur of blue moving about as Crest Beasts, and Giant Wolves snarled in pain. Still, there were more around than he would be able to deal with. You found the energy within yourself to begin your sprint toward the red light, your own cloak flowing behind you. You had two tricks left up your sleeve, now that no one was around to see you in the spotlight you might be able to lend a hand without getting too nervous.

“Your Highness, we need to retreat!” You hollered, keeping a fair distance. You hadn’t resorted to pleading with him yet. There was a chance he would heed you without it. Or, that's what people kept saying to you.  _ ‘He listens to you!’ _ Eh, that was highly debatable. Your calls only resulted in him letting out a frustrated snarl as he plunged Areadbhar into a Giant Wolf’s neck. He was continuing to ignore you. He didn’t care about orders. He was enraged.

He had whirled around to something you could not see in the mist, but it had been on his blind side. He could not turn quick enough. You watched something dark lash out, slamming into the Prince with extreme force. It sent him rolling across the ground, his lance flying from his grasp, and going dark.

You had expected him to give a cry of frustration, and then to get back on his feet and continue his destructive rage. But he didn’t. You heard... a choking noise, a wheeze. He was gasping, beyond having the wind knocked out of him. Something had gone very, very, very wrong. You were going to have to use trick number one. Quickly!

Willing whatever energy you still had, you ducked into some of the half collapsed stone structures, and you cast your last Rescue charge, just before whatever beast had whacked him had found him again. You don’t know what exactly you had expected, to render the One Eyed Demon so helpless, but it was worse than whatever vague image you had conjured in your mind. Unsteady yourself from more strain, you barely managed to catch him, and lower him onto the floor. “I’ve got you! I’ve got you..!” You tried to soothe him as he thrashed.

You couldn’t fault the fact that he was being uncooperative at the moment. The fact that he had retained enough awareness to even try to mind his distance from anything was insane, and quite frankly  _ inhuman _ . The portion of his cuirass over his sternum had been caved in significantly. The steel plating had been bent so far inward, it was crushing his chest. There was no doubt in your mind that his ribs had broken, and it was very likely that one, if not both of his lungs had been pierced, given the blood he seemed to be gargling. 

You were barely managing to keep your ‘Oh fucks’ and ‘Oh nos’ to yourself. He did not need you panicking on top of the fear he had to be experiencing. You both struggled to try and get the damned chest plate off of him before he suffocated. Eventually, your clumsy fingers had fumbled around enough and found the leather strap latching the back plate and the front together. You ripped the steel away as he desperately tried to take in air now that the pressure was gone, only for him to keep wheezing, as his ribs still dug into his organs. He was trying to scream, but there was no way for him to let the sound out. He couldn’t breathe!

All thoughts of your own self preservation left you as you laid your hands on his chest, and you cast a charge of Heal that you did not have. The light pulsing under your fingertips was in sync with the pulsing you felt in your skull. It wasn’t strong enough. His face was still twisted in an unspeakable agony. You casted again, your heart now joining the rapid flickering. Magic fatigue could be terribly dangerous. That was a lesson you had relearned the hard way, and very recently. People had been so worried, all the attention had made you blush. You were afraid to upset them by making the same mistake again, and so soon.

But not nearly as afraid as you were of losing him. You casted again.

You could feel the blood dripping from your nose. You could feel your heart ramming into your own ribs. You could feel pins and needles in your extremities. Your body was giving out. None of those things should be happening. They were all awful signs. But it was alright, because he finally managed to take in a full breath. The pain was easing enough for him to stop writhing. He was shaking still, but he was calming down. His lungs were back in order. Yours weren’t, but that was okay. One more charge, and you could start to set his ribs in place.

“Stop..!” He hissed. You felt him try to catch your wrists, trying to pull you away, but he didn’t have the strength - Him, not having the strength! His breathing had gotten so slow, so deliberate. Between shallow gasps, “You can’t...”

You couldn’t do another one, or you would have dropped dead. It was for the best that you were already on the ground with him. It was a shorter distance to fall. You looked down at him, trying to blink the growing darkness from your vision, trying to see if he had any other injuries. He looked okay, but his ribs. Goddess, his upper body was... Before you lost feeling in your hands, as you pressed them to his undershirt you could feel what was left - it felt like the consistency of mulch. Even with his lungs intact, there was no way he wasn’t still hurting. You couldn’t leave him like this. 

Just in case you passed out, you tugged off his gauntlet, and you slid your own prayer ring onto his pinky finger. He gave you that ring... And it would keep him alive. You wanted to give him that last vulnerary you had as soon as possible, but your sight continued to dim. You were still, just barely conscious but you had crumpled on to the stone floor with the prince. You heard him wheeze, “(Y/N)..!”

“I’m okay....” It took you a second to respond. You really didn’t want to fall asleep. “I... I need a minute...”

He hacked in pain, as he tried to turn to you.

“Don’t move..!” You snapped,  _ well _ , snapped as hard as you could. You said it yourself, you just needed a minute. A minute and your heart would stop thudding so intensely, and your skull would stop pounding. “Dimitri, just... stay still.” You reached your hand up to your face. Your lily white sleeve came away red from your nose bleed. Just some splotches on the cuff, so at least you knew it wasn’t too bad. You closed your eyes. Goddess, even with the fog it was so bright. “Fuck...” You would have asked yourself why you were in this pain again, but you knew why.

His Highness and his lack of self-preservation.

If he wasn’t going to take care of himself, then you were going to have to. You owed him a few, after the whole gang debacle. You didn’t have the energy to open your eyes yet, but you were able to blindly pat the inside of your satchel, where you found the last vulnerary.

“...bar.” He murmured to himself. You tuned into what he was saying, and you realized he was repeating, almost mournfully, “Areadbhar,” He had realized that he had lost his family relic in the mist, and he was on the edge of a state of delirium.

Okay, you had your minute of reprieve. Despite your entire body screaming  _ “NO GODDESS, PLEASE NO, BY THE SAINTS, PLEASE STOP,” _ at you, you pressed yourself to sit upright, though your skull felt like it was full of lead. The blood moving through your veins was hurting you, but you uncorked the bottle. You took your own minuscule sip, only to ensure that you could stay awake for just a little while longer. As soon as you swallowed, your head felt lighter. Your fingers brushed his frazzled hair from his face, “Your Highness,” You called him to attention, bringing the bottle to his lips.

He choked down what was left. The liquid had washed the blood from his mouth. He was unable to hold back a slight groan as his insides were moving back to where they should be. Enchanted medicine was a useful, but terrifying thing, if one thought about it too hard. You kept petting his head, trying to offer him comfort. But still, he called out for his weapon.

“Alright... Alright...” You sighed, taking the empty bottle from his rather weak grip, “Wait here.” It was probably a little bit insulting, telling him to stay put. Even though he was going to survive now, he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon without help. You crawled your way toward the stone wall, and you used it to pull yourself to your feet. It was a struggle, given your current state. But you could stand by holding the wall, and you inched your way down towards the opening you first ran through. You peered out into the fog, seeing the shadows and silhouettes of beasts of incomprehensible strength. You tried to bury your fear in your pain. You had one last scheme you could employ, should one of them notice you. Granted, it might kill you but, at least you would go out fighting.

You were trying to figure out where the lance could have landed, but you were also giving your body some time to realize that you were about to do some crazy shit. The more you thought on it, the more you realized you couldn’t wait for the mist to clear to do this - it was probably why Dimitri seemed so anxious about it. This mess seemed planned from the start. If this really was an Imperial trap, then there would be reason to believe enemy forces were nearby. Hypothetically, if they were around, and were aware that the Hero’s Relic was unattended, then this proved a good opportunity for them to swipe it. You  **really** did not want to let that happen.

Based on what you had seen, there was a good chance that Areadbhar had landed on the edge of the brush line to the right of where you were hiding. If you got over there, you could potentially use that as cover to rethink in case you were wrong, or should the monsters notice you. Unfortunately, there was... something out there, between you and the thicket. You  **really, really** did not want to get close enough to find out what it was. So, you took the empty vulnerary bottle in your hands, and you chucked that son of a bitch as hard as you could down the long unused path. And then, cutting through the silence now prevalent from the lack of troops, came the sound of glass shattering.

Whatever unspeakable monstrosity you were looking at roared in response to the sound, and charged in the noise’s direction. Meanwhile, you stumbled as fast as you were able to the brush. It appeared you had gotten there unnoticed. You prayed that your cloak, and the natural dark from the thicket hid you as you skirted the edge, searching desperately for the Relic. You actually wound up tripping over it, but hey, you found it! And you were thankful no one was around to see you falling all over the place.

Only, that resulted in you taking another few minutes to muster the stability to stand. Not wanting to turn into a beast yourself, you removed your cloak, and wrapped it around Areadbhar’s handle to avoid direct contact. In the time it took for all of this to happen you saw more shapes moving in the mist. They weren’t too close, and your dress shirt made you blend into the fog. You believed you could make it back to Dimitri undetected.

Your belief was terribly misplaced. 

Around halfway back you tripped again, as something growled at you. You sprawled into the dirt, and before you could even roll over and utilize your final resort, something sank it’s fangs clean through your boot, deep into your lower calf. There were no thoughts in your mind of casting your last spell. In a panic, trying to prevent yourself from screaming and alerting anything else nearby, you twisted your body around and you cleaved the Relic through the Giant Wolf’s skull. It was all possible because your magic fatigue has dulled your senses enough where the pain was not immediate. You wrestled your foot from the dead beast’s jaw, and you painstakingly dragged yourself back to the crumbled structure where your prince awaited.

“You... you damned fool...”

_ Hm, what an odd way to say ‘thank you,’  _ You would never say that out loud, but that would not stop you from thinking it. His greeting disappointed you - stung even. You tried not to let it show as you unwrapped his precious lance so that he could see it, before you set it down next to him. 

“You should have... escaped...” He wheezed.

It was a little bit late for running now. You sat up, and you looked at the trail of blood behind you. It was... a concerning amount. Looks like your final trick was going to be spent keeping yourself alive. “I couldn’t leave you...” You told him quietly. Bandages weren’t going to be enough. You needed to staunch the bleeding. You bunched up the leather strap of your satchel, and then you chomped down on it. You tore off your boot, laid a hand on your leg, and you let off a cautious fire spell. The leather kept you from biting off your own tongue or screaming and luring the monsters towards you as you cauterized the puncture wounds. And that was all your energy, and ideas used up for the time being.

“And now we’re both stuck here...” His face was not showing pain, but an emotion that you read as... disgust? “Your leg...” He mumbled the same way he had spoken of the Relic previously. Forlorn. Maybe it was disappointment.

“It’s fine for now...” You spat out your bag strap. Your breathing was shallow as the burning subsided. You could kind of feel again. It ached, and it pulsed. Good. That would probably keep you awake. How odd it was. You had pushed yourself so far, your head wasn’t hurting anymore. Or at least you couldn’t feel that pain specifically. You had gone full circle into being functional again. “I’m hardly all bone yet. I'm trying to be of use to you.”

His head listed so he could get a good look at you, slouching over yourself. “What is that supposed to mean..?”

“Well, I owe you,” You brought yourself just a bit closer to him so that you could monitor his condition more closely. “You told The Professor you would use us all until our flesh rotted off, but I-”

“Silence..!” He cut you off with a hiss. Your use of his own bitter rhetoric had upset him, it seemed. “I-I- That-... You- Not you. That... That wasn’t about you!” He was trying to raise his voice.

“Shh, shh, okay...” You soothed to quiet him down, to stop the monsters from finding you. “Please... let’s not start an argument. I’m no good for verbal exchanges.” You doubted that you would be able to handle a shouting match with His Highness, exhaustion and shyness aside. Not that this was something to be fought over. Hell, he probably wouldn’t manage one for long in his condition. It was best to avoid the scenario entirely.

“Then do not say such foolish things to me.” His first coherent, full sentence in this mess and it was so bitter. That was a good sign that your ring was working it’s magic though.

“It’s bound to happen, since I’m speaking more these days...” You sighed. Was it even worth trying to be casual with him? To even have this exchange? Well, conversation was keeping your senses alert.

“There’s no reason to be so talkative.” He might be able to walk within an hour or so, if the prayer ring was working that quickly.

“Am I annoying you?” You frowned. Did you upset him? He sounded irritated. Or maybe you were overthinking this.

“I don’t care.” He dodged the question like you dodged unnecessary social situations. Poorly, realistically speaking. His expression was sour. He had to have minded.

“Everyone tells me that you’re nicer to me, but I don’t really believe that most of the time...” You were trying to be serious. You were trying to keep your eyes open. But you still spoke with a yawn. “I’m bothering you, but you won’t be honest.”

His eye narrowed at you. He must not have enjoyed what you were saying. No one liked being called out for their less than decent behavior. “What are you rambling on about..?”

“Oh. Sorry.” Rambling? Yes, you were rambling. Blurting out the first thought in your mind. “I’m trying to keep myself awake.” You looked down at his hand and smiled. Your ring looked silly, slapped down onto his pinky like that. It was made for a small and dainty hand. Not the scarred and calloused and cold digit of the prince. “I... I’m afraid of what will happen, if I fall asleep.”

“(Y/N)...” And there it was. His expression softened in that way it only ever seemed to do for you. You must have been in rough shape, appearance wise. Covered in dirt, ashen skin, and a blood smeared across your face. Never mind the nonsense coming out of your mouth. “Neither of us are going anywhere, at least until the mist clears. Rest if you must.”

“I don’t know how long I’ll-” You shook your head, a bit exaggerated, a bit childish. “-... The last time I did this to myself I was out cold for nearly a day...” You suppressed another yawn as a deep breath. “Dimitri... I don’t know if I’ll wake up this time.” The words that you spoke were chilling, you knew. And yet, you lacked the energy to give them the correct emotion. Muscle pain was starting to catch up. Dull, pulsing, almost lulling. Another yawn punctuated your speech.

“Fine. Prattle on as much as you would like.” He reached out for you, straining himself, until he took your hand in his. “But do not fall asleep.”

“Is this a decree from His Highness, just for me?” It was nice to take his hand. He used to grab yours when he led you to tea when you were younger. Wasn’t that such a happy time?

“It’s an order.” There was no amusement, no happiness from him. That was okay. You would be jovial enough for the both of you. Because you could speak to him without tiring, that had not changed in all this time. “Speak.”

“Have I ever told you about where I’m from?”

“You are from Itha, are you not?”

“Yes. My father’s estate was a bit inland, but my room was up towards the top of the home. On clear days, I could see the ocean from my window,” You folded up your cloak, and you set it under your burnt and bitten leg. “I had a little nook for reading in my bedroom. I used to hide there when we had company over...”

And you talked, and talked, and talked, and talked. Everytime you yawned, he would give your hand a tentative squeeze, and you would blink your exhaustion away. At some point The Prince’s ribs were enough in place enough where he was able to sit up. The circle under his eye was dark, and he looked bored as can be, but he still nodded once in a while at your words, just to keep you going. “How long until you believe I’ll be stable enough to carry you?” He asked you, peering into the open, now that the fog was fading, and the monsters were wandering away as the sun rose in the sky. No imperial presence yet.

“How long? Hmmm...” For the first time in over an hour or so, you let go of his hand, and placed your own on his chest. His ribcage felt more like a ribcage, and less like the rubble they had been before the mist had cleared away. You were too tired to be embarrassed about getting handsy with him. “The bruising is probably pretty severe, but I think you’re back in order already...”

He grunted in affirmation, twisting your ring off of his pinky. He tried to push it back to you.

“No, no, no..!” You protested, much to his confusion, “There you go again, being reckless!” You made quite the attempt of resisting his returning strength, putting the ring back on him. “This whole mess happened because you weren’t thinking about your own safety. Keep the ring to save your strength.” You had to keep your hands clasped around his so he wouldn’t attempt to return it again.

It was oddly assertive, and he was forced to agree to your demands. He would rather you keep spouting your nonsense about your home, and the odd plants on your property, and how sad you were being forced to flee from the dukedom, and how grateful you were to Rodrigue. It was preferable to you yelling at him. There were enough voices screaming at him, and they had been even louder as he was lying on the ground in pain. He urged you to keep up your needless, but soft chattering as he wrapped you in his cloak, lifted you off the ground, and he cradled you gently in an effort not to irritate your wounds. He really was nicer to you...

His strength must have been close to restored, as you were aware he was only holding you with one arm. The other held Areadbhar at the ready as he marched back toward Garreg Mach. Someone would have to return for his cuirass later, not that it was in a decently salvageable state. Oh! And your shoe!

He moved past the corpses of the demonic beasts, not even batting an eye at the damage he had done - and the one you had slain, nice work by the way - there was no need to worry. He could hear allies calling in the distance, to his unshown relief.

“Damn Boar! Where the hell are you!?” Felix shouted.

“Excuse me? (Y/N), are you out here?” Mercedes called out.

“Dimitri!” Ah, there was a voice that eased both of your nerves. The Professor was searching for you both as well, and he had brought more troops with him. “(Y/N)!”

You were already planning a good quip to greet him with.  _ ‘Hey, I told you I would get him,’ _ Eh, maybe you should just focus on staying conscious until another medic got a look at you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun! Hope you liked it Kei ^_^
> 
> I gotta give y'all a heads up. Next weeks one-shot is... very long. I hope the quality in it is consistent... Anyway, hope y'all are staying safe out there. And, thanks for your continued support. It really keeps me motivated to keep working <3


	26. Timewarp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI, HEY, HELLO. JUST REALIZED I HAVE A FINAL ON MY USUAL UPDATE DAY, AND I WANT TO SPEND THE ENTIRE DAY PRIOR STUDYING. So I'm just going to leave this here a bit early for you so that I can focus.
> 
> A request from Fluff Lord. Dimitri and Reader’s child comes from the future, and they just kinda have to deal with that now! El has been rocketed back to the academy days! Heads up gang - this one is LONG. It also draws a good deal from the OG run of Gratuitous, so I hope you remember how that one went!

The day following the Ball was a surreal one, to be sure. Goddess rest Captain Jeralt’s soul. And Goddess help the Professor. In the days after he was... well, one would not say he was in a state, but he appeared to be very much in a haze, clouded by his grief. It was understandable - his own father, the only family he had ever known, gone. The rest of the faculty were doing their best to try to pick up his workload so that he could process his loss in peace.

This included everyone’s favorite teaching assistant. You had taken over more magic lectures so that Professor Manuela could take on Professor Byleth’s swordsmanship classes. You, our dear TA had also unofficially taken up issuing  _ behavioral warnings, _ that the Professor would normally handle so students would avoid larger trouble. Today was going to be a particularly troubling case. You were already annoyed, and you hadn’t even actually started. This shit was going to cut into your time with a special someone, and you could not help but feel you were somehow going to be insulted by what was to come. The more you looked to the stack of papers you had on your desk, the more you loathed the impending conversation.

“That’s all for today, you’re dismissed,” You told the Blue Lions as the cathedral bell tolled high above the rest of Garreg Mach. “Hey, Sylvain. Hang back, I need to talk to you.”

His Highness stood and collected his notes, but he turned his head to you, “... What did he do this time?”

“Don’t fret too much. I’ll handle it, and I’ll meet you at the training ground as soon as we’re done, okay?”

The Prince gave you his polite bow and left the room, as the Gautier heir swaggered up to your desk. “So my lady, to what do I owe this pleasure?” His eyes narrowed as his grin got more and more smug, “Have you gotten bored of Prince Dimitri already?”

And he insulted you on the second sentence he spoke! Man, he was going for a record today. “I’m going to ignore how unbelievably rude that was because up until you said that I considered you a friend.” It was going to be a difficult thing to put out of your mind though... More people being aware of your relationship with the prince could be... _ problematic _ . “I’m trying to save your ass here, so maybe don’t try to demean me, or assume my affections,  _ which are my business alone _ , aren’t genuine.”

He sucked some air in through his teeth and the smugness disappeared in a flash, “I see I’ve upset you a little, and I’m already very sorry about it.” For some reason, you doubted his apology.

“Like I said, I’m going to pretend that it didn’t happen, because you’ve got bigger fish to fry,” You took the top set of papers from your desk stack, tucked in a folded parchment cover, and threw them down on the table for him. “Are you aware that you are a single complaint filing away from getting expelled from the Officers Academy?”

“Um... What is this, exactly?” He asked.

“This is your disciplinary file. Every student has one. Yours just happens to have about four times as much in it as the others do.”

“Wha- why?!”

You flipped the cover page open, and spread the top eight sheets across the desk, “Reports of conduct bordering on harassment, numerous verified accounts of malicious and hurtful language, and an instance of threats of violence.”

“Whoa!” His hands snapped up defensively, like he was trying to push something away from him. “Back up! Harassment?!”

You were almost shocked that he was unaware of this shit. Almost. “Sylvain. Girl’s constantly tell you they aren’t interested- that they don’t want to date you- that they don’t give a shit about your money or your crest- and you still talk down to them! You made three different girls cry last week because you accused them of being gold-diggers, and then you tried to convince one of them to be in some messed up friends-with-benefits thing because - and I quote - ‘That’s all girls like you are good for -‘ That’s the **meanest** thing I’ve ever read! Of course they filed reports against you!” You slapped that form in particular for emphasis. The meanest shit, seriously... You knew about the heir’s aggressive streak. Every once in a while, he slipped up a little, and his attempt at flirtation had landed as a backhand against your honor. Most of the time, you decided not to care, because your skin was thick enough to not be wounded too terribly by such a comment. This file was honestly eye opening, and someone had to yell at him for it. “I don’t even know for certain if that’s the most troubling thing on some of these! This one is particularly concerning - it hasn’t been officially filed yet, but it is from the Professor himself. I think the only reason this one wasn’t submitted is he isn’t sure if you were joking or not, but it says you threatened to  _ kill him _ . I’m not going to ask you to explain all of these, but seriously, Sylvain, what the hell?”

“I- Listen-” Without really trying to, you had managed to throw him off his game, causing him to stammer, to hesitate. You had called him out on his shit. It made him visibly anxious. “-You just... If I explained myself, you just wouldn’t get it.”

You sighed. It was almost pitiable. He had the highest social intelligence of anyone you had ever met. He was so much sharper than he let on, to see him acting like this was so odd! “Sylvain, I get it. I really do. Not having people value you as a person, and using you to climb the social ladder  _ sucks. _ I know- but you can’t take the anger that causes out on the people around you- people you barely know... Think about how that’s going to impact your future!”

“Ugh, you sound like a parent!” He scoffed, trying to regain the social edge of the situation. “What could you possibly know about it? You don’t have a crest-“

You rolled your eyes, but, oops, you were irritated again! “Shut the hell up! My old man has more money from his business than he knows what to do with. I’ve had creepy old bastards barging into my home demanding my parents marry me off to them since I was six, just to get my father’s fortune. Since I was six, Gautier! Don’t you  **ever** tell me I don’t know about that shit!” You stopped yourself before you lunged across the table to choke the man out. “I think you’re missing the point here. This isn’t a pity-party. We’re having this conversation because you aren’t considering how your actions and words affect the people around you. No one is going to want to be your friend in the future,”

You weren’t entirely sure your words had sunken into him, when he hit you with a sudden “Wait- you aren’t going to tell Prince Dimitri about this, right?!”

“Are you kidding me? He’s one of the only people you listen to, of course I’m telling him about this!” You began collecting his papers so you could return the file later. You couldn’t undo any of this. What he did with this information was up to him. His future was in his hands, not yours.

“(Y/N), I’m begging you- I will never hear the end of it if you snitch on me to him now!”

“Then maybe you should clean up your act!” You stuffed the file into your satchel and you stormed out of the room. You were off to go do a fencing lesson with a sweet guy who was nice to you, not because of your old man’s money, but for the sake of being nice. That future with him was for you to handle.  _ This is the last time I  _ **_ever_ ** _ try to help you out. _ Hopefully the rest of the Guardian Moon would be more relaxed than this shit.

Hopefully.

Elsewhere in the monastery, something strange had occurred. A young girl suddenly appeared in the Knight’s Hall with a flash of light. She was just as confused as the other occupants of the room were. One moment she was watching Count Hevring, and Lady Ordelia practice some new type of magic they were researching, and in the next moment, they were gone, and there were some other people she did not recognize in the room instead. She left with a shrug. Her mommy and papa would probably be worried if their friends had disappeared, so she decided to go track down and tell her parents that something had gone wrong. The strangers in the Knight’s Hall were left with their jaws dropped, too shocked to ask the little kid where in the world she had come from.

The Little Lady toddled around the monastery. Her family was there because Saint Seiros Day was coming up, and well, they had to leave home to be around for their... how did mommy word it?  _ Pious Duty? _ She couldn’t quite remember what that word meant, but she was pretty sure it was something to do with church stuff. She was pretty good with context clues and all. The trouble was, Garreg Mach was looking a bit strange. None of the new improvements to the buildings were there! And some of the clothing people were wearing were looking out of style. She had seen clothing like it in paintings. It wasn’t that old but still she thought it was a little bit odd. She also hadn’t seen anyone she had recognized immediately. Not until she was almost all the way at the greenhouse and she saw “Auntie Annie!”

“Huh?” A ginger girl with her hair in funny little loops turned and looked down at her as she stepped out from one of the dorm rooms.

Yes, her hair style and her clothes were different, but there was no mistaking that red-head short stack for anyone else other than Lady Fraldarius. Again, she squealed out, “Auntie Annie!”

“Awww,” Someone cooed from inside the room Annette had just exited, “Annie, who’s your friend? She is just adorable.”

It took her a second. The hair was a lot longer than it had been since she had last seen the woman, but it was definitely her, “Aunt Mercie?” The Little Lady put her hands on her hips, slightly perplexed. “Why is your hair so long? And where’s your funny nun hat?”

“I’m not too sure what you mean...” Mercedes did not stop smiling, but she was very confused. Her hair had been around this length for years, and she didn’t generally wear nun’s habit unless it was a very important religious event! “What’s your name, sweetie?”

It had been a little while since she had last seen Mercedes, at least. Maybe she had grown so much the church woman couldn’t recognize her! “It’s me, Ellie! Princess El!” 

The two women crouched down so that they could more properly address the little girl. Annette tagged into the conversation again, “Well, hi Ellie! What are you doing here?” What a cute nickname! Her family called her ‘princess!’

“Right now? I’m looking for mama and papa. I need to tell them something, but I don’t know where they are...” El certainly hoped they knew the other reason why they were there! Especially with how much Aunt Mercie cared about the church.

Annette glanced at Mercedes, “It sounds like she’s lost, Mercie...”

“I’m not lost, I just-”

“You’re looking for your parents?” Mercedes finished her thought. “Well, Annie and I are on cooking duty today. Why don’t you come with us to the dining hall, and we’ll see if they come through while we’re there?”

“Hm... Alright,” Ellie wasn’t sure why Lady Fraldarius and Madame Mercedes of all people were responsible for cooking, when the monastery had its own staff, but this was a solid course of action. It would save her running around everywhere, at least. Aria liked running everywhere. El didn’t.

As the three pressed on for the Dining Hall, Mercedes leaned over to Annette. “Don’t you think she looks just like (Y/N)?”

Not wanting the little lady to overhear them gossiping about her, Annette nodded enthusiastically. Her hair, her complexion, both a perfect match for the teaching assistant. Even the way she was dressed was oddly reminiscent. A simple black skirt, with a button up shirt tucked into it. Though instead of their friend’s preferred lily white, the chemise was a royal blue. The other major difference was her eyes. They were a very, very, very distinct blue. But neither of them could quite put their finger on where they had seen it before...

Back at the training ground, you were in a losing bout against His Highness. You were putting up a good fight, holding your ground at 2-4, but he hadn’t even broken a sweat, while you were heaving like one of your lungs had burst. You were definitely about to get dunked on, in layman's terms, but you had the satisfaction of knowing you had gotten two wrist touches on actual royalty. You were dealt your final blow when he disengaged around a half-hearted thrust from you, jabbing the tip of his epee right into your hip.

“I yield, I yield,” You coughed, but it shifted into a laugh as you shook his hand like the honorable opponent you were, “I got you a couple times to day!”

“Your form is certainly improving, “ He told you with a pleasant smile on his face. He joined you as you sat down on the ground so you could catch your breath. He wasn’t wrong. Your rapier form was getting much closer to the tightness and cleanness of your sabre ability. He didn’t even have to hold you to get your posture in the correct place anymore!

“One of these days I will land a toe touch on you...” You jested.

“I’ll know to guard against it, if you keep reminding me that you’re planning such a thing.” He waited patiently as you wheezed yourself back to stability. “Would you like to have tea this evening?”

“Hm, it depends. I’m supervising Annette and Mercedes for dinner tonight, and if that goes awry I might be trying to get the kitchen back in order till night.”

“You sound concerned. I generally trust their conduct when they make things.” The Prince did that precious head tilt of his, where he brings his hand to his chin.

“That’s because you only see them when they’re making sweets.” You almost chided his apparent unawareness, but again, in a joking manner, “Those two are great at baking, but they’re disasters when it comes to normal cooking.” You were internally having a concerning flashback to when Mercedes had accidentally tossed smoke bomb herbs into a hot pan. And then of course there was Annette’s recurring habit of just blowing pans up.

“Ah, I suppose...” He didn’t seem to have much to say on the matter. He always was odd about food, you had observed. He would comment on things before he actually tried them, and he never seemed to genuinely react to weird flavors. The Prince was odd in general to be perfectly honest, but he was a nice man,

“Dimitri, I’ve been meaning to ask...” It still felt strange to call him by his first name. He had given you express permission to do so at the Goddess Tower - had begged you to use it, almost. The only thing that may have been stranger was your question, which to him had appeared out of the blue, “... Are you okay?”

“Am I..? Well, I suppose I am well enough.” His eyes had widened at your question. An inquiry into him had apparently caught him off guard, “Why do you ask?”

“Well... Since the Remire incident you...” You halted as you watched him wince into a frown. That day had hit him very hard. It might have even broken something within him. The glower on his face when the Blue Lions had returned from that mission... You would admit that it had frightened you, “And now Captain Jeralt...” Again you hesitated to complete your thought. Based on his reaction, he knew what you were trying to get at, “A lot has happened, and I know you’ve been trying to process it all by yourself...”

He had no words for you yet. He simply had squeezed his eyes shut.

“I want you to know that I’m here for you, alright?” You hesitantly slid your hand over his gauntlet. “If you need to talk about it with anyone, if you don’t know what to say to other people about it, if you need to vent... I’m here.”

“(Y/N)...” When he opened his eyes, he turned and leaned towards you. For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you, like he had at the Goddess Tower, but he hesitated. What he did that night was almost a fit of pent up affection. Now that he had gauged it, he was able to control it more. Instead his arms curled around you, pulling you into his chest. “You’re very kind...” 

He was a bit unnatural with his grip, probably trying not to hold you too tightly. It was courteous, but it was almost sad. You leaned into him, just so he knew it was okay actually give you a hug. He eased into that a bit more.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments longer, but you both had responsibilities to attend to. You loathed having to stand and part from him when it felt like you were having a moment with your sweetheart. Ah well, ah well, it was time to move on. The clock was ticking. “Hey, you’ll keep an eye on Sylvain, right?”

“Oh, certainly.” He stood with you, and gave the back of your hand a courtly peck. “I would escort you, but Dedue and I are assisting Alois with taking the monastery’s weapon and armour inventory, and we are starting here.”

You shrugged, “Ah, don’t worry, I think I’ll make it unscathed.”

He called to you as you made your way to the door, “If you aren’t too tired, let me know if you would still like a cup of tea tonight.”

You grinned from ear to ear, “Sure thing!” Oooo~! Looks like you were going on a date~!

Back in the Dining Hall, Annette and Mercedes were taking turns prepping ingredients, and keeping the little lady company. She was most likely a noble, they had gathered. Her clothing may have been simple in pattern, but the texture and weave of the fabric was extremely fine. There was also the chance that she was a merchant child.

“How old are you, Ellie?” Mercedes asked as she chopped up an apple for the little girl to snack on.

“I’m four!” She replied proudly. “And my sister Aria is six, and my brother Lambert is twelve!”

Annette was wracking her brain for any noble houses that had three children matching those ages. The eldest boy was named for the late king, which was normally done in tribute... Maybe she was from a minor house in the Kingdom trying to gain favor before the King’s passing? But the names ‘Aria’ and ‘El’ really weren’t ringing any bells... In her distracted state, Annette had managed to knock a bunch of pans off the counter, attracting the room’s attention.

“Are you okay, Auntie Annie?” Ellie shifted at the table to try and see the red head.

“Heh, I’m okay!” And then there was  _ that. _ Not only did the girl know their names, but she referred to them so familiarly...

“Maybe when Miss (L/N) gets here, one of us can go ask around about your parents,” Mercedes spoke loud enough for Annie to hear the idea.

“(L/N)...” Ellie muttered out loud. That surname sounded awfully familiar. Was that another noble family that Mama and Papa were friends with? “I think I know that name... Who is the head of that family?”

“Oh, it’s not a noble family, they’re a merchant family. The only daughter is our friend - Oh!” The woman paused and looked past El, “Speaking of, there she is now!”

“Hey girls, sorry I’m late. I had to get washed up after my bout.” You teased your still damp hair, and spotted the girl who appeared to be scrambling out of her seat, “Who’s this-”

“Mama!” She shrieked. She practically jumped the table, sprinting across the room, and ramming into you full force.

“-ACK!” You were still standing, but you had the wind knocked right out of you. The girl had jumped, and was clinging onto you for dear life. After coughing a little bit, you finally managed a “H-huh?”

“Ellie, that’s not your mama...” Mercedes told her gently. “That’s Lady (Y/N).”

“(Y/N) is my mama's name!” She fired back rather indignantly, “And I know my mama when I see her!”

“Um, hey, Kiddo...” You winced at the girl’s grip on your leg increasing. You leaned down a little for her. It was very strange because you felt like you were looking at yourself, but shorter, “Don’t you think I’m a little bit young to be your mama?”

“Well...” That smaller version of you stared back at you with a sharpness in her eyes beyond her years. Those eyes weren’t your own. Although, that quickly faded into a pout, and then that pout fell into a frown. “I guess but...”

“Hey, hey,” You gave her head a pat, “It’s alright, I’m sure she’s looking for you, so let’s not get too upset...”

“You dress just like her...” The little lady grumbled. Her mom was the only person who ever called her ‘kiddo’ too, “Where is she then..?”

“Tell you what, if you stop crushing my leg, you and me can go look for her, if she doesn’t come in here for dinner.” You were starting to lose feeling.

Her grip loosened, thank the goddess. “Okay...”

“Good girl, El.” You gave the little lady another head pat and a warm smile, and you walked her back over to the table that she had damn near vaulted. “Mercie, could you use a heal charge on me before you start cooking? I'm feeling kinda sore...”

_ El. _ If you weren’t her mother, then how would you know to call her by that name? She was convinced you had to be her mama. Something very strange was happening. If she couldn’t call on her mommy, then she needed to find Papa, or Lammy and Aria. And if she couldn’t find them, then she would turn to her bestest friend...

You took over watching the girl so Annette and Mercedes could actually start their dinner chores, though Annette made sure to inform you about the girl’s peculiar ability to identify students. “Okay kiddo, can you tell me what your parent’s look like?”

“My mama looks just like you.” Ellie responded. She would play along with that for now. She was concerned that if you didn’t remember her, you might not remember what her father looked like. “And my papa is blond. And he’s really tall and really strong.” She perked up all of the sudden, “Oh! And he wears an eye patch! It makes him look like a pirate, but he isn’t one, so it’s okay.”

“Eye patch, got it...” You nodded. You supposed it was a good sign that she had enough understanding of morality to know that pirates are generally not good. Her parents were probably upstanding then... “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone like that today, but we’ll keep watch, for sure.”

She was going to ask you if you hadn’t seen the procession of the entire court, which was frankly inconceivable, but she was unable to due to the sudden shrieking.

You both turned towards the sound, and saw the two young women were dealing with a sudden blaze. “I turn my back for five minutes, and you set something on fire!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve already got a bucket of water, just in case!” Mercedes practically cheered as she hoisted up her aforementioned bucket.

“Mercie, don’t! That’s a grease fire-” You scooped Ellie up in your arms and you whirled around to shield her from the sudden explosion as the young woman made the situation infinitely worse. Good thing you were a Res-Tank, or that could have hurt!

“Oops!” Mercedes giggled, though she had been blown across the kitchen. “But at least we’re okay, right Annie?”

“Yup!” Annette beamed, despite the raging fire near them.

You were going to start yelling at them, but honestly, what was the point? “Kiddo, can you do me a favor and go wait outside while I deal with this?” You set the child down, now that the heat blast was over with. She nodded and began to scurry away. “Okay ladies, gentle wind spells, we need to pull all the oxygen away from the fire before this gets out of control!”

Ellie made her way into the courtyard, and stood around with the rest of the spectators and the evacuees. She passed the time by kicking dirt, and peaking in to see the slowly decreasing level of chaos. But it still wasn’t over. And she was getting bored. Because, do recall... She was four. She had begun to pace from the courtyard, and through the gazebo, and toward the tea garden, bored as she could possibly be.

The princess decided that this was taking far too long, and that she was better off finding another family member to help her. A flash of blond and blue caught the corner of her eyes when she had wandered towards the gazebo. “Lammy..?” She called out. Whoever that was had not turned back to see who was speaking, and so El gave chase.

As she turned the corner, she saw the back of a young man with short cropped blond hair. His clothing wasn’t quite right. He wore some kind of black academy uniform, and a blue cape over his shoulder - but maybe he had changed for some reason.

“Lammy! She yelled again, tailing him. She had broken into a full sprint, “Lam-OOF!” And she had dug the tip of her foot into a slightly raised brick, and she went stumbling to the ground. She had definitely twisted her ankle, which hurt her enough, but she had also scrapped her palms. The stinging was enough to make her start sniffling.

“Oh dear,” The young man she was following had finally turned around, seeing the little girl starting to babble. He set down whatever parchment he was carrying and he knelt next to her. “Did you hurt yourself, little miss?” 

She looked up at him through her welling tears, and she was certain that she was looking at her big brother. “Lambert!” She shrieked as she buried her face in his chest.

Dimitri froze as he felt his heart shatter. His father's name yelled right at him. It rattled his heart and mind. People usually quietly mumbled a ‘Majesty,’ or ‘Late King,’ out of respect. Why had this girl, who was certainly not old enough to know King Lambert react to him like this? It took him a few seconds to collect himself, as he sat there in shock. He cleared his throat, “It’s alright. It’s just a scrape, little miss.”

“I-I-It hurts..!” She hiccuped. She pulled away from the prince enough to show him her palms. Her right hand was a bit irritated looking, but her left hand hand seemed to catch more of her weight, and had ended up scraped enough to bleed.

“Ah, I see. Here, why don’t we wrap it up then?” He dug around in his pocket and he found a kerchief that you had lent him for one of his own injuries. He had it cleaned, but returning it had completely slipped his mind. He figured you probably wouldn’t mind him putting it to use for a little while longer. His wrappings were clumsy, if he was going to be perfectly honest, but it served its function of covering the scrape. “How’s that?”

“Um... It’s okay,” El wiped her eyes and stared down at her hand. The cool cloth was soothing the sting. Even if it wasn’t a very clean tie. Lambert wasn’t very good with this kind of thing. But as she looked at this young man more closely, she realized that this wasn’t her brother. He was a good deal taller, she could tell even though he lowered himself. His hair was much shorter than Lammy’s, which had reached his shoulders. The biggest difference was his eyes. Lambert’s eyes were the same as Mama’s. These young man’s were a deep greyish blue. They reminded her of her father’s eye. “I’m sorry, you look like my big brother.”

“Did you lose track of him, little miss?” Ah, so that was why she yelled that name. Still, it was a strange coincidence.

“My name is Ellie, and kind of?” ‘Little Miss’? That wasn’t her title. Why didn’t anyone recognize her? “I was with two of my aunties and uncles, but something strange happened, and I’m trying to find my...”

“Alright, Miss Ellie. My name is Dimitri. Would you like me to help you find your brother?” He collected his parchment, and offered the little lady his hand to help her get off the ground. The poor thing was still sniffling, clearly distraught. How could he not offer his assistance?

“Actually, do you know where Captain Dedue is?” Something about this whole thing was strange. No one seemed to recognize her. She doubted that this was some kind of joke. Especially from her mother. Mama liked to spout awful puns to make papa laugh. Trying to scare her by pretending she doesn’t know her own daughter didn’t sound right. This man had the same name as her papa too, which was just adding to the oddities. This might have been beyond Lambert’s prowess for fixing problems. But her closest confidant, her most trusted vassal, her axe instructor may have known what was going on.

_ “Captain?” _ Dimitri was confused, “Are you referring to Dedue Molinaro?”

Back in the dining hall, you had flopped onto the floor, thoroughly exhausted by some moderate smoke inhalation. Also you were hungry. But dinner was definitely delayed a good bit. It was a bad time all around.

“(Y/N), where did Ellie go?” Annette hollered from out in the courtyard.

You bolted to your feet, “FUCK.”

Meanwhile, the little lady was perched on His Highness’ shoulder. Her leg was still bothering her, and this seemed to be the most efficient way to get her to Dedue. He was in the Knight’s Hall, waiting to combine his inventory sheet with the prince so that they could finally get something to eat. The young vassal’s normally stony face held a hint of confusion at the odd pair before him. “Your Highness..?”

Ellie’s eyes lit up. Someone referring to her by the correct term - Dedue, Captain of the Royal Guard, thank goodness! She was ecstatic for a moment, but as she got closer she got confused. “No scars...”

“Dedue, this young lady was asking for you by name,” Dimitri set her down so that she could get closer on her own, “Have you met?”

Dedue looked down, hesitantly, and then up to the other young man, “I cannot say that I have, Your Highness.”

El’s jaw dropped. He hadn’t been referring to her, he had been speaking to, “You said your name is Dimitri?”

“That’s correct, little miss. My name is Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.”

“... Okay.” The little princess sat still. Very still. It’s a good thing she processed things differently than her parents did, otherwise she might have freaked out. She did not need her family, or a confidant. She needed someone who specialized in weirdness and time. “Is the Archbishop around?” He had told her once in passing, maybe as a joke, that he could turn back the clock in short bursts. He might have answers, if she was right about what was going on...

“Lady Rhea? Why would you need to speak to her?”

“Who? No, I need to see Byleth.”

“Apologies,” Dedue cut in curtly. “The Professor is currently in mourning. Seeking him out would be discourteous.” 

That was a big word. Courteous meant something like manners. Dis made it negative.  _ Bad manners _ . Got it. Talking to Byleth right now would be bad manners. Even a princess isn’t allowed to barge in on the Archbishop. Even for these kinds of circumstances... But she was stuck then. No one knew who she was. Her mama didn’t know where she was. Her papa didn’t know who she was. Dedue didn’t know who she was.

She had started to sniffle again.

You were turning the entire monastery damn near upside down looking for the kid. How hard could it have been to find a four year old? Apparently extremely so! She wasn’t in the pond, thank goodness. She hadn’t been spotted in the market. No one had seen her by the dorms. There was a good chance that she had found her parents, but you couldn’t have been sure. It shouldn’t have been any of your business, but the thought of something happening to the little girl filled you with a deep sense of dread. You had never had this feeling before. Not in the library. Not by the stables. Not in the infirmary. What the hell, what the hell?! She’s four, how fucking far could she have gotten?! 

It was only when you were making your sprint by the Knight’s Hall that you heard a shrill “YEET!”

That shit hit you like a ton of fucking bricks. That sounded like something you would yell, but purely ironically.

“Excellent form!” Dimitri had exclaimed.

Oh, oh someone who didn’t set things on fire randomly. Thank the Goddess! You rushed into the room, finding Dedue as well - your luck was improving! And then before them stood Ellie, beaming proudly at the training dummy with a short axe gouged into its neck.

“There you are, kid!” You were finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. Weren’t you too young to have heart palpitations? “Don’t run off like that...” No wonder this kid lost track of whoever she was with... 

“I’m sorry,” She offered you a consoling curtsy as she retrieved the axe, “I thought I saw my big brother.”

“It’s fine just, tell people before you start wandering around.” Awww, even with an axe in her hand she was such a cute kid. And weirdly polite. Speaking of the axe though, “Hey, why are you two letting a four year old play with a weapon?” Sometimes it felt like you were the only responsible adolescent in this place. Dimitri and Dedue usually comforted you that you weren’t alone, but they weren’t at the moment.

“She had become upset, and His Highness was attempting to comfort her.”

“You learned swordsmanship at a young age. No different from anyone else in Faerghus,” Dimitri reasoned before you could inquire what mental gymnastics he had to leap through to come to the conclusion that giving a sad child a weapon would make things better, “She claimed she’s been taught how to use an axe, and as it stands that is true.” That sounded extremely irresponsible, but he was right. Her aim was impeccable.

“The Captain taught me how!” El proclaimed proudly, heading back to the edge of the sparring dirt for another throw. “He’s the strongest person alive, besides my papa!”

The Prince narrowed his gaze inquisitively. He motioned for you to join him and his companion in a small huddle. “I see you’ve already met her...”

You nodded, “Annie and Mercie found her. Apparently she called them by their names, but they’ve never seen her before. She thought I was her mom when she saw me...”

“Until she saw my face, she had mistaken me for her brother. She also referred to Dedue as ‘Captain,’ but she did know his full name.”

Dedue cut in then, “Forgive me if this sounds odd, but she does bear a strong resemblance to you, (Y/N).”

“I noticed that too, but I’m an only child. Plus no one in my family has eyes like that. If anything they remind of-”

“YEET!” El cried out as she tossed the axe again. The impressive throw was accompanied with a small flash of light. One that was quite familiar to kingdom citizens. Not only that, but this accurate shot landed so heavily, it took the training dummy’s head off. “Got it!”

You three sat there, dumbfounded. “You both saw it too, right?” You shared a look with the prince and his vassal. “We need to bring her to Hanneman.”

“My uncle wouldn’t have...” Dimitri looked annoyed, as your band of confused teens tried to bring the little kid to the crest specialist in a way that did not seem worrying to her and the random passerby. “He- he wouldn’t...”

You would have gotten closer to hear the prince, if you hadn’t been carrying the girl, who seemed less than pleased about her axe throwing being interrupted. “Sorry kiddo, but we need to check something really important.

All she did in response was grumble, “I thought Mister Hanneman retired...”

If it hadn’t before, the kid’s familiarity with a concerning number of people you knew was really starting to freak you out. Her eyes... Her eyes! No wonder they looked the same as..! But could she really have been a-

“Professor Hanneman!” The Prince began as you all filed into the old man’s office, “We are terribly sorry for intruding but we need something verified immediately!”

“Oh my, what seems to be the matter, Prince Dimitri?”

You noticed El’s face scrunch up a bit, but she otherwise kept quiet.

“Could you do a reading for a crest?” His Highness asked, gesturing to the little girl you were holding.

“Oh, does this little lady have a crest manifesting this early?” Hanneman had asked you.

Oh the restrain it took for you to not give the man a ‘fuck if I know,’ shrug. You didn’t get involved with all that crest research. You didn’t have one, didn’t matter to you. “Maybe. We saw... something. Honestly, I think we just want confirmation that we weren’t sharing a hallucination...” You set Ellie down, but held her hand at her silent insistence. 

The old teacher had Dimitri, and his known crest read first to calibrate his equipment. Sure enough, the scanner showed the Minor Crest of Blaiddyd. So far so good. He then asked the girl to put her free hand over the scanner, and... It read the Minor Crest of Blaiddyd again. 

The Prince grew pale. He was the only Blaiddyd alive who bore a crest. The only official one anyway. His growing fear seemed to be confirmed. This girl may have been the result of his uncle’s skirt chasing.

Professor Hanneman seemed perplexed, looking his tools over. “Did it read Prince Dimitri twice..?”

“No, that’s mine.” Ellie finally spoke up. “I have the Minor Crest of Blaiddyd. What's the big deal? Papa has the Minor Crest. My big brother has the Major Crest. The only ones who don’t have them are my mama and my sister.”

Okay... That threw the room for a loop, although that would explain her disproportionate strength for someone of her size. No wonder her grip had hurt you! Three people in her family bore the crest of the royal family? Just about everyone was about to start trying to coax an explanation from the girl - the regent did not bear a crest. If she wasn’t the illegitimate child of Duke Rufus, then who was she - but the party was interrupted. “Hello.”

“Professor...” Dimitri tried to greet him, but he was perhaps too distraught to have a conversation. Dedue and Hanneman were both still running a gauntlet in their minds trying to understand the implications of the situation.

That left you to greet him for real. “Hey Byleth. How are you holding up?”

The poor man. You kind of missed him having a perfectly empty expression. He had spent most of his time frowning, a furrowed brow punctuating it these days. Blankness would have been preferable to seeing him so... sad. He shrugged in response. “I got out of bed before noon.”

“Hey, that's good.” You replied. The first couple days had been rough. No one had seen him leave his room. This was a step in the right direction. You had more questions for him, but the little girl had let go of you.

“Your Grace,” She nodded politely, “You look different, but I need to talk to you.”

After days and days of pensive sorrow on his face, The Professor looked _ surprised _ . His eyes widened slightly, but there was a pause, as though he was waiting for someone to finish speaking. Finally he spoke himself, “Come with me for a moment,” Ellie followed him into the hallway. Before anyone could protest or follow, “The rest of you stay in there.”

He even closed the door behind him. She knew him. She knew him like she knew everyone else.  _ What the fuck is going on here..? _

The Professor still in the room turned to you, “Miss (Y/N), I must say, that girl bears a striking resemblance to you.” It would have been very easy to tell him that you were very aware of this fact, but like old men enjoy doing, he kept talking, “In addition to that though, her eyes... I suppose I should not be surprised, if she does bear the Crest of Blaiddyd, but she has the same eyes as Prince Dimitri!”

You were aware of that too. Very aware.

Outside that door was an odd conversation. Princess El gave the Archbishop a much more formal greeting this time. She curtsied, and bowed her head, “Your Grace, I’m sorry to bother you, but something is really wrong.” The man had crouched down so that he could get a good look at her, “Even you- your hair isn’t the right colour...” She reached her little hands up to him, and brushed a few strands, “... Do you remember me?”

He waited again, closing his eyes as someone spoke to him. _ ‘Sothis..?’ _

_ ‘I don’t know her either. Something about her feels off... like she...’ _

_ ‘Like she isn’t from this time...’ _ His eyes opened. “I don’t, sorry.” The girl’s face fell. She pulled back her hands. He had upset her. “What’s your name?”

“El.” She tilted her head up proudly, decidedly through with people forgetting her, “My name is El Alexandra Blaiddyd, Princess of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.” Her voice wavered though, “You’re Byleth Eisner. The Archbishop.” Her words were insistent. He  _ had _ to be the Archbishop. She didn’t know what she was going to do if he wasn’t.

“I’m Byleth Eisner, the professor.” The man shook his head, “What year is it, El?”

“1199.”

He waited again for Sothis.

_ ‘The poor child... The little one has fallen through time.’ _

“Can you tell me your parent’s names?”

“King Dimitri, and Queen (Y/N).”

That sounded about right, for the way the girl appeared, “I know what’s going on.” He patted her head and stood up. “Don’t be sad, princess. Let’s go clear this up with your mother and father.” He sounded so reassuring to the child, but when he opened the door to Hanneman’s office he got extremely blunt again, “Yeah, this is your daughter from the future.”

“Excuse me- who’s?” The bewildered prince asked.

“You and (Y/N)’s.”

Yeah. You blacked right the fuck out. Your brain had short circuited from a sudden shock of embarrassment, and it was forcing a hard reboot. Thankfully Dimitri was quick enough to catch you before you went face first into the floor.

You came to around a half hour later with The Prince and Manuela waiting on you in the infirmary. “Was it a dream..?” Was the first thing you asked.

Dimitri couldn’t bring himself to look directly at you. The thought of eye-contact alone was flustering him immensely, “If you’re referring to the girl, then no. That was real.”

In an effort to hide your progressively reddening face, you slapped your hands over your cheeks and yours eyes, a groan escaping you.

At least Manuela was having a good time. Hell, she thought this was hilarious. “Come now you two, that's no way to act around each other!”

This only resulted in you groaning louder. She knew already?! Had she been eavesdropping, or did someone tell her? “Dimitri, get me out here.”

“Of course,” He offered you his arm, and you made your escape from further embarrassment. Manuela’s laughter echoed down the hall. He still couldn’t look at you, but frankly, you couldn’t look at him either.

“Where is she now..?”

“With Dedue and the Professor.” He answered, “It’s about time for dinner.” 

You had been so hungry after you put out the fire, but your appetite had suddenly disappeared. “What should we do?”

He was guiding you towards the dining hall. Dear boy was missing dinner to make sure you were okay. He really was husband materia-aaaaaaAAAHHHHHHHH- “Dedue would not share such sensitive information. I don’t suppose the Professor would have told anyone either... Perhaps we can just feign ignorance, and we can deal with the matter in pri-”

“There’s the future king and queen!” Sylvain exclaimed as you entered the Dining Hall. “Arm in arm, how sweet!”

“... Dimitri, I think I’m going to pass out again.” Damn it all! Byleth was a fucking snitch! Goddess, this was so embarrassing! You and Dimitri weren’t even officially dating! Marriage?!

“ _ Please don’t. _ ” He whispered to you, “I’d rather not face this on my own.”

“... Just catch me again if I start to tilt.” You sighed, and then glared into the red head’s soul, “That better be all I hear out of you for the rest of the night, Gautier.”

“Aww, you’re still mad at me.”

For the time being, you decided to ignore Sylvain, for his own sake. Instead you decided to scan the table, looking for the traitor. Dedue looked like he was dissociating, so you could be certain that he didn’t want this to happen either. Byleth, who you finally found, was cutting up some food on Ellie’s plate for her. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he was almost smiling. He had left some space at the end of the bench for you and the prince. You were inclined to join him so that you could duck out of the line of sight of every goddess damned person in this forsaken monastery. “How many people did you tell..?!” You hissed.

“I’m not sure. I just told everyone who asked who El was.” The Professor shrugged. “It was most of the class and staff.”

You took a deep breath. Was he trying to kill you?!

“Are you okay, mama?” The little lady leaned out from the other side of Byleth.

“Um... I’m alright.” So... She was your kid... With your sweetheart... How were you supposed to talk to your child from the future?! “Uh... How are you?” You couldn’t have been more awkward about this if you tried.

“I’m good.” She munched on a piece of food, being sure to swallow before speaking again. Good, she had table manners. You were raising her right, “Everyone is being really nice.”

“I always knew you had it in you, Your Highness,” Sylvain leaned across the table, grinning at Dimitri. “It may not be happening anytime soon, but I’ll give you my congratulations on having se-”

“Sylvain! Do not-” The Prince snapped, then quickly lowered his voice, “... Do not finish that sentence in front of the girl...”

The red head fell into a pout, slouching back into his seat. “You two are too uptight. I’m just joking.”

“Uncle Sylvain,” Ellie turned to him, “Mama used to say that you were a ‘jack-the-lad,’ what does that mean, and is it true?”

“I was a ‘what?’” He laughed, “‘Used to be?’ Well, that’s a good sign that I’ll improve in the future, isn’t it (Y/N)?” You were desperately trying to give yourself reasons not to dive across the table and throttle him. Reason number one: it would be far too rewarding. Reason number two: despite the catharsis, murder is generally frowned upon. That was all you could come up with. Had he really taken nothing away from your earlier conversation?! “Well young lady, to answer your question-”

“Do not answer that.” Dimitri came so close to growling... So, so very close. “After dinner, you are not allowed anywhere near her.”

Once more today, Sylvain had been thrown off guard, “Isn’t that a little bit extreme?”

“I do not want you corrupting my...” His voice got hushed and low under the rabble of the crowded room, “...  _ My daughter.” _

“Your  **what** ?!” Claude von Reigan could not have passed by at a more awkward time. “Well, well, well, your princliness! I was not expecting a revelation like this, you sly dog!”

Ellie twisted in her seat to get a look at the Golden Deer House Leader, “... King Khalid..?” 

Had you heard her correctly? By the way she beamed up at him, she definitely recognized him. But she had gotten his name wrong... For the first time, for as long as you had known him, you saw distress on Claude’s face. “Heh-heh-hey little lady, maybe you should quiet dow-“

El gasped, “Oh! But you aren’t king yet, are you, Kha-“

“ **Well!** She is just adorable, congrats Dimitri! Bye!” Claude might have broken a world record with how fast he dipped from the conversation. You wished you could run off too. Maybe throw yourself into the ocean. Or into Ailell...

The questions, oh Saints of Sothis, the questions! People asking where they had ended up in life, who they married, did she know their children? The one that hit you the hardest was about her siblings. Because someone at the table had exclaimed “So they have three children?!” ‘They,’ being you and Dimitri. El then clarified that her sister was adopted. Most of the table found that sweet, but you were dying because regardless, that meant you and Dimitri were going to fuck  _ at least _ twice! And other people picked up on that fact too. Felix looked between ‘The Boar’ and you and his face scrunched up with disgust. And of course, our main man Sylvain was positively reveling in this information.

It would be a miracle if you and Dimitri managed to finish the evening without snapping and killing someone, or without dying of embarrassment. 

Somehow, everyone survived.

She slept in your room, confused as to why you weren’t sharing a bed with the prince. She understood that she was in the past, but she had not fully grasped how far back. El was the crown jewel of Garreg Mach, for the few days you and Dimitri had attempted to parent her while trying to figure out how to get her home. She was a well-mannered little lady, and she was very kind. Between asking the staff if they needed her to carry anything for them, to feeding the stray cats and dogs, to assisting the gardeners, she had endeared herself to just about everyone. She was also very helpful in class! She would run papers to other professors, she would make sure you had enough chalk to use on the board, and she would patrol the room to make sure everyone was paying attention.

“Alright, whoever gets this right gets a bonus point on the next exam,” You announced, “What is my favorite spell?”

El, who was sitting between Dimitri and Dedue, raised her hand before anyone else, so you called on her, “Aura!”

“Spot on, kiddo! Ellie gets an ‘A plus!’” At the very least you stayed consistent through adulthood.

Sylvain nudged the back of His Highness’s seat, “Why didn’t you know that? That’s your future wi-”

“Sylvain I swear...” Reason number three: You didn’t want to traumatize your child. You had both been avoiding the conversation of your future for personal reasons.

She didn’t seem to mind the attention and adoration she got from people, but you noticed her generally avoiding the imperial princess’ shadow.

“You don’t think he’s scary, do you?”

“No, you and papa just told me not to talk to strangers.” The only people the little girl did not seem familiar with were Archbishop Rhea, who appeared to have retired in the future, and Hubert and Edelgard, for reasons yet to be explained. She did not know them, thus she didn’t go near them without you or Dimitri around.

However, Lady Edelgard caught you two helping in the greenhouse one afternoon. “(Y/N), and the little miss. How are you doing today?”

“Well enough, given the circumstances, Your Highness. What can I do for you?” You brushed some soil from your hands, and you stood with your little girl hiding behind your skirt. She wasn’t normally so shy, but she said it herself, stranger danger and all that. You ruffled her hair, “It’s okay, kiddo, she’s nice.”

The Imperial Princess smiled down at her, “I was actually curious about something, and I was hoping she could answer a question for me.” She crouched down for her. “I understand that you don’t recognize me, princess.”

“I’ve never met you before.” El peered out from behind you. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Edelgard von Hresvelg,” She extended her hand.

“Edelgard...” The girl took it hesitantly, then she perked up very suddenly. “Oh! I’m named after you! Uh- Kind of... Ellie is my nickname, but my real name is El!”

“You were named after me, but we never got to meet... Is there any reason why?”

“...” Your daughter retracted her hand slowly “... Can I go play with Dedue?”

You gave Edelgard a defeated shrug, “She might cry if I say no.”

“I did not get the response I was looking for, but we better not risk that. Thank you for your time, Ellie.”

El didn’t think she should tell that nice lady why they had never met... The idea of telling someone that they were dead didn’t seem very right. She scurried off, trying to avoid something potentially upsetting. She was already struggling with missing her brother and sister...

“I wonder why she recognized you immediately, but originally mistook me for her brother,” He poked and prodded your blade arm, trying to get you to the correct guard for rapier. “How different could I possibly come to appear as I age?”

This had been some of the only time the two of you had between yourselves in the past few days. Dedue and Mercedes had volunteered to watch El for a little while, just so ‘mama’ and ‘papa’ could do some work without worrying over her. “Oh, about that. She mentioned that you only have one eye.” You almost laughed, recalling how she described Dimitri like a pirate, “You wear an eye-patch, apparently.”

He let the tip of his blade fall, staring at you, “How on earth do I lose an eye?!”

“Maybe she knows. You could always ask her.” You let your own arm drop, sore and tired. “If I had to guess, you probably charged into a battle head on, instead of taking a cautious approach.”

“Certainly there are other ways you could tell me you want me to think a bit more in a fight.” 

“Sure there are! But I get to see all the different faces you can make when I tell you like this,” You grinned up at him, and his handsome, but pouting visage. Was it always going to be fun to banter with him like this?

“How could I possibly marry someone who mocks me like this?” A smirk was beginning to grace his face.

“I bet I beat you in an honor duel, that way the court isn’t allowed to object over me being a commoner.”

He chuckled, “You think you can best me in a duel?”

“In a bladed duel? Maybe. In a magic duel, absolutely.”

“Is that so?”

“You say that like you don’t want me to earn your hand in marriage through honorable circumstances!” You feigned offense.

“I believe such an inevitability will occur through more simple circumstances,”

“Oh, are you planning your proposal already then?” You wished you had bitten your own tongue off as soon as you asked. Flirting was a two way street - you fool, you had flustered yourself! You could feel yourself getting red.

There was a faint pink dusting his cheeks, but he was also laughing at you - like actually laughing at you - as though you had thrown a bad pun at him. “(Y/N)- you- you are just...” He trailed off before finishing the thought, shaking his head.

“I’m what?”

“You’re  _ adorable _ .”

You came very close to passing out again.

Meanwhile in the Knights Hall, the occupants were met with a blinding flash of light, and when their vision returned, a young man stood before them. He was definitely a noble of some sorts, with the military-esque suit he wore. He cleared his throat, after fixing his ruffled blond hair, “This is going to be an extremely odd question, but what year is it?”

Felix was in the room, and looking at the kid made his stomach lurch up to his throat. “1181.” If he didn’t know any better, he would say he was face to face with The Boar, back when he was still ‘Dimitri.’ But his eyes were...

“Oh, thank the goddess it worked...” The boy let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you, Lord Fral- I mean Uncl- ... Thanks.” He booked it out the door. Felix was tailing him as soon as he processed the implications of the kid’s appearance and his confusion in addressing him.

He was a sweet kid, but he was twelve, and also his mother’s son, so internally he cussed like a sailor.  _ ‘HOLY FUCKING SHIT IT WORKED,’ _ It finally hit Lambert, as he ran from Felix-Hugo-Fucking-Fraldarius, his own god father before he learned to smile again. He thought his parents and his other aunts and uncles were joking when they described him. He thought Felix was exaggerating about himself! No- he was just... like that! 

He wasn’t here to see how moody his uncle was in his youth. He was the only one they could send. If any of them tried to go, and they met their past self, things were going to get weird. He was here to collect his sweet baby sister, give whatever competent adult he could find Linhardt’s instructions, and then he was to go straight the fuck home with said compatent adult using the correct magic. Easier said than done, because Young Lord Fraldarius was following him for some reason, and El had been gone for several days. Goddess only knew how far she could have gone, and  **WOW** Felix was so fucking fast! And he looked angry... Why was he so angry?! Ugh, he should probably deal with this sooner, rather than later.

Lambert grinded to a halt, and turned back to face his uncle. “Please excuse me, but why are you following me?” He knew the man’s fighting style in and out, if Felix was going to come at him, Lambert was confident enough that he could at least dodge.

Felix stopped about three feet short of him. His eyes narrowed, like he was scowling, but the frown on his face betrayed something more like sorrow. “You look just like him...”

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _ Lord Fraldarius thought Lambert resembled his father. This was bad. Count Hevring specifically said not to disclose who he was because it  _ ‘Might break space and time. I’m not really sure, but that would be pretty bad, don’t you think?’ _ “I apologize, I don’t understand. I’m in a bit of a rush-”

“Are you looking for your sister?”

_ Fuck. _ “Ah... You already know who I am then?”

“You’re the damn Boar’s kid.” Felix scoffed, why did he follow him anyway? It was only making him angrier. “Mercedes and Dedue took the girl into the market. They might still be there.”

Lambert felt like his uncle was glaring daggers into him, “I see. Well, I’ll be on my way then. Thank you.” 

“Whatever.” Felix grumbled, as the boy ran off. And he thought for another moment. He spoke like his best friend used to. He looked like his best friend used to. He probably acted like him too. That meant he might do something stupid. He would keep following just in case. 

Ellie looked down at the people of the market, perched on Dedue’s shoulders. Mercedes was worried they would lose her in the crowd if she was on the ground. “What are we doing again?”

“We’re going to try and find some ingredients so I can show Dedue how to make my favorite sweets!” Mercedes answered. “It’s my mother’s recipe.”

“... The cream puff?”

“Yes! I suppose I still make them in the future, if you know about them.” The woman smiled.

“You make them for your students.” El told her, “You make them for us sometimes too.”

Mercedes cocked her head, “I become a teacher? That sounds nice.” She wondered what it was she was an instructor of, but didn’t ask about it. Perhaps it was better to just let her future be a surprise. Lost in thought, she bumped into a man walking by, and was knocked to the ground, “Oh, my goodness!”

The strange man barked, “Watch where you’re going lady!”

Dedue gave the man a quick once over, as he offered his hand to help Mercedes up. Or he thought the glance was quick. Apparently it lingered.

“What are you lookin’ at?!” He snapped. Dedue said nothing, being naturally taciturn. His lack of reaction displeased the stranger, who continued to glare at him, spitting. “Duscur swine!”

“Excuse me!” Mercedes put her hands on her hips. “I think you should apologize!”

“Yeah!” Ellie cut in, “First you knock Miss Mercedes down, and now you’re being mean to Dedue!” Who did this guy think he was talking to?!

He didn’t seem to enjoy being scolded by a four year old, “Mind your own business!” He took a swing at Dedue, who blocked the strike rather easily. This only served to frustrate the man. He threw another punch, only for it to be blocked again. Dedue did not return a strike, not wanting to cause a stir in public

Another party suddenly joined the fray, slamming a fist into the man’s face. Lording over than man now on the ground stood-

“-Lammy!”

“Hello Ellie,” He smiled at his sister, and then immediately scowled at the rogue, “How dare you speak to them that way!” He kicked the man in the stomach. He could not stand people like this. Racist, disrespecting women, and yelling at his baby sister? The man was lucky the kid hadn’t drawn his sword! Phew, okay, one kick got the anger out... His father probably would not have been pleased that he had ended this confrontation with violence, and yet he could picture his mother’s approving thumbs up. He took a deep breath, and looked to The Captain, “I can take her, if that is alright.”

Dedue lowered El off his shoulders, and she leapt at her big brother. “Lambert!”

“El!” He picked her up and twirled her around, cradling her to him, “We were all so worried...” Mother and Father had been in a state over her disappearance. And Aria... day and night, sobbing, sobbing ‘Where’s my Ellie..?!’ Everything was going to be okay. He found her... There was a grunt, and a clattering noise behind Lambert. He pushed El behind him and then whirled around. 

“Felix!” Mercedes exclaimed.

The man the boy had kicked had drawn a knife, likely to try and attack the kids in a fit of rage while everyone was distracted. Only for Felix to intervene. The future Shield had his foot on the man’s arm, and his own sword drawn at the rogue’s throat. It was the right decision to follow the kid. Not that he’d admit that. “Hardly even worth my time.”

Lambert was quite done with the past.

You and Dimitri were enjoying a cup of tea in the hedge garden, having ended your fencing lesson. Some quiet time between you where you weren’t sparring was nice too. Chamomile. He really liked chamomile. It seemed to be his favorite. You made a mental note of that, for future reference. You two weren’t even chatting. It was just nice to relax in silence together.

“Mama!” Goodbye silence, hello sweet child.

“Hey kiddo.” You turned in your chair so she could jump into your lap. “Did you have fun with...” Behind her was Dedue, Mercedes, and the surprising addition of Felix who you believed wanted nothing to do with any of this. But almost hiding behind him was a boy around twelve. He had pretty golden hair, and your eyes. “Oh.”

“I found Lammy!” She cheered.

“Oh.” That seemed to be the only thing you could say, as your eyes stayed glued to your first born. “Hey... Bud.”

“Hello there,” Dimitri set down his teacup. “Lambert, yes?”

“Yes...” Felix nudged him forward, which he begrudgingly yielded to, “How much has she told you..?”

“We know who you are.” Dimitri replied. “Although, the resemblance may have been enough to go off of.” It was uncanny. The boy looked exactly the way one would picture your prince in his youth.

The boy looked down at his feet, a bit bashful. “Oof.” Oh, he was absolutely your kid! “We really shouldn’t disclose much else. If we change the future by mistake... That could be quite problematic.”

“Ah, so I should refrain from asking about what happens to my eye.”

“Please don’t ask me.” He put his hands behind his back so he didn’t wring them. He normally was a perfectly fine speaker. But facing his parents when he wasn’t that much younger than them was making him strangely anxious. “Neither of you like to talk about it.”

“Ominous...” You mumbled, “So... You’re taking Ellie back?”

“Yes. You are- my... Mother and Father are heartbroken. The entire country would be thrown into a panic if she doesn’t return soon.”

“How are you going to do that? Is it safe?” You wouldn’t want your kids to get stuck in a time where there was no one to watch out for them. It was by pure luck that they landed somewhere relatively peaceful. Goddess only knows where else they could have gone...

He reached into his jacket pocket and fished around for a piece of parchment to present to you. “These are spell instructions from Count Hevring for getting me here. Some slight adjustments to the sigils should send me forward.”

“Lin wrote this?” You looked surprised. His handwriting really had not gotten better...

“The Archbishop has also requested that you burn that paper once we leave, or that I take it with me.” His hands returned to behind his back, “He would rather the flow of time not get... interrupted... ever again.”

“He?”

“I think I’ve said too much.”

Lambert was a nice boy. You and Dimitri seemed to be good parents, which was a relief. Though he was much more tight lipped about information than El was. Probably because he was old enough to understand the butterfly effect. You still managed to talk him into staying for dinner, not wanting to blast him through time on an empty stomach. Sylvain and Ingrid were very confused when they first saw him. You imagined Felix had reacted a similar way to seeing him. You let the Blue Lions dote on the kids for most of the meal.

Dimitri could not look away from the little ones. But he still murmured aloud enough for you to hear. “I did not believe...”

“You didn’t believe what?”

“That I would get to have a future...” He rested his head on his hand, his manners leaving him in a moment of contemplation. “I still have so much I need to do before I can think about my own time...”

You pat his arm, “We’ve got time, Dimitri. Whatever you’re trying to do must take less time than you believe.” He never told you what it was he had to do. He only told you that he wished he could give his future to you. Apparently he would be able to, once everything was said and done. “Just remember that you have your own life to live, okay?”

After dinner, and goodbyes, you and the prince brought the children back to the Knight’s Hall. You had replicated Linhardt’s instructions perfectly, and then made adjustments to go forward, before giving the pages back to Lambert. It was tempting to keep it, but that seemed irresponsible. Also, if the kids landed in another time, having the instructions to try again was probably a good thing to have on them.

“... Mother, Father... Thank you for taking care of Ellie.” The boy bowed to you deeply. He had hesitated to address you both that way, but he didn’t know how else to refer to you. “It was... Nice to meet you?”

“Sure, we’ll go with that,” You nodded, reaching out a hand for him to shake, “Nice to meet you too, kiddo.”

El was clinging onto Dimitri for dear life, “I’ll miss you, papa,”

“It’s alright, you’ll see us again soon.” He soothed.

You had them stand in the sparring pit as you waved goodbye, “Be good you two!” As they disappeared... You blinked and looked around. “Dimitri..? What are we doing here again?”

“What are we...” He looked around, not entirely certain where he was, “... Something to do with Sylvain, I think?”

Hm... that sounded about right. You had yelled at him for his behavior... and then something about the future? Ah yes! Sylvain needed to care more about the future!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot diggity dog, this one was LONG. Enough so where I think it's length will make up for the wait for the next one.  
> Biggest challenge I have encountered through my time writing for Three Houses? It’s not smut, it’s trying to remember how to spell ‘Faerghus’ off the top of my head. Cannot fucking do it. It’s 8 letters, and my brain hits every possible combination of vowels except for the correct one.  
> I hope you don’t mind me plugging and implying some ships here and there. When you’ve got a support chain like they do, idk how you can’t look at NetteFlix and be like ‘Yeah, that is valid,’ Also Dedue and Mercedes’ ending with the revival of Duscur culture through teaching it’s history is the good shit. I dig that concept.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! <3


	27. Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all can have this one a day early... As a treat. (And so that I can creep closer to getting back to uploading consistently on Fridays...)
> 
> Hoooo boy. Anime_hotty_lover_24 has asked me for a thing. My friend, you have an interesting name, and an even more interesting request. This one also draws a bit from OG Gratuitous. We’ve delved a bit into the topics or jealousy before. Let's kick it up a notch for one rather ruffled man.

If he was going to be perfectly honest, he could still feel emotion. He preferred to act as though he could not most of the time, but certain things were bound to slip through the cracks. The poor imitation of life that he led was simpler without them. He had a very good grip on positive emotions, because he could sense them before they arose. A warmth would stir in his chest. The dead would know. He did not deserve to feel anything good as long as he left them suffering. He buried that warmth. Anger was the one that cropped up the most, but it worked to his benefit. It kept the innocent away from him, and it made him damn-near unstoppable in a fight. Anger had its place, the dead conceded.

But as of late, more emotions had begun to rise, with nothing he could do to cope. And he hated it. The dead hated it. The worst part was he did not understand what most of them were, what the signs were, thus there was little he could do to stop them at present. The only common factor between them was (Y/N). 

He could recognize a few. Fear was one. Every time he saw her creeping too close to the front lines in battle, jeopardizing her own safety. Yes, he could admit to himself that the tightness in his throat was fear. If something were to happen to her... Well, he would not allow that. Then there was irritation. She was rather insistent on accompanying him around, making excuses that if troops saw him alone all the time they would lose faith in the cause. Just because she may have been correct, did not mean he was alright with her attempting to chat with him about things that he could not possibly care for. 

She was also capable of invoking various types of relief in him. Before the reunion at the monastery, when it was just the two of them, bedding her would ease carnal desire. Knowing she had returned from the field unscathed would allow him to relax, to breathe easier. Seeing her entertain the growing number of orphans was good as well. If waging this war to destroy Edelgard gave him any regrets, it was the volume of suffering it caused the young.

As time went on, he realized he was beginning to relate feelings of anger to (Y/N). Not at her, no. She hadn’t done anything to purposefully earn his ire. She was too kind to do that. No. It was the people around her. Vile wretches who pursued her to no end.

There came a day when she entered the Cathedral. She always did, ‘Just to check on him,’ she would say with a soft smile. But she was late that day. And when she finally appeared, she was sprinting. She practically slammed into him, forcing him to turn his back to the entrance. “What are y-”

“Please..!” With what little air she had, she shushed him, burying herself under his cape. She wrapped one arm around him, pressing herself to his torso as close as she could manage, her other hand covered her mouth to quiet her wheezing. “Do not tell him I’m here!” She was terrified.

“...” He did not know what to say. What disgusting piece of filth had brought her to such a state?

“Excuse me, good sir. Have you seen a young woman pass through her?” 

Dimitri looked over his shoulder, careful to only turn his head to hide (Y/N). He gave no verbal response to the man speaking, which did not seem to bother the man, who kept prattling on.

“You would know her if you saw her, sir. Her beauty would make roses wilt in shame.” He gave a dreamy smile, and a slight sigh. “She is the daughter of an Ithan merchant, and I intend to propose to her” 

The Prince felt the woman twitch in his arms, like she was gagging. He wouldn’t blame her, it was amazing that he hadn’t had a similar reaction. Still moving slowly, he put a hand on her back. It was meant to be a comfort. He was trying to signal to her that she was safe with him. Again he did not speak.

“Her name is (Y/N), have you seen h-”

“I don’t care.” He hissed, “Leave.”

“I’m sorry?” The man seemed confused. Confused by hostility from a man who looked like death itself. 

“Leave.”

“I-I- How dare you!” Now the man seemed to be getting flustered. “Do you know who I am?!”

The irony was not lost on the prince. He would not flaunt his status though. He did not enjoy it in the past, and it meant almost nothing to him now. “A pest. Begone.”

He was going to attempt to retort, possibly even come at the Prince, but he was distracted by a shout from the side door of the Cathedral.

“You!”

“Sir Felix...” The Prince watched the man’s face grow pale. “What a pleasant surprise...”

“Drop the act, Romero. I know you followed (Y/N) here.” Felix came storming across the room, a hand on one of his blades, prepped to draw at a moment's notice. “My father made it very clear you were not to disturb her while she pursued her medical work, am I wrong?”

“No, no... you are quite correct, Sir Felix.” Romero’s hands shot up defensively, “But understand, I am not disturbing her, I am simply reminding her of my family’s off-“

“I saw her sprinting away from you!” The lordling spat, “What part of that doesn’t seem like a disruption to you?!”

“So that’s what this is about,” Dimitri spoke aloud. “Felix. Get him out of the monastery.”

“I don’t take orders from you, Boar.” He growled, however, having come from the side, he could see you shaking in the prince’s grasp. “But since we’re in agreement just this once...” He marched forward and seized the man by his shoulder, “Come on Romero, why don’t we go say hello to my old man, before we see you off?”

Once the stranger's excuses and pardons faded out of ear shot, Dimitri felt (Y/N)’s legs give out from underneath her. He lowered her to the ground and knelt by her side as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Oh- oh my... I-“ she coughed into her sleeve, “I’ve- I haven’t- I’ve never ran that fast-!” It took her a good few moments to settle down. “I must have gone at least four laps around the monastery!”

“What was this just now?”

“You recall that I’ve been staying with Lord Fraldarius for a good deal of time, since Itha was over-run by the Dukedom, right? Well, to help me avoid suitors who want my father’s business, Rodrigue  _ technically  _ adopted me.” (Y/N) explained, “Nothing was ever officiated, but now those men who have attempted to defy my father’s wishes have to deal with Rodrigue, who has the authority to actually get rid of them.” She gestured to the entryway Felix had dragged him, “As you can see, some of them are willing to risk the consequences.”

“Like that one.”

“Romero Iscariot. He’s a real scumbag. He has ties to that merchant who tried to kidnap Ingrid, back in the academy...” She reached up to rub her temples, “I've made it very clear I want nothing to do with him, but, seems like that creep learned my routine. He tried to get to me before I met up with Felix.”

So, he feigned his foolishness. He conducted himself as a love-struck fool, but in reality he was a threat. A danger. A danger to (Y/N). A despicable creature who defied her wishes repeatedly. Dimitri clenched his fist.

“I’d knock him out myself, but it’d mean trouble for my... His father and my father are business associates. Upsetting him could pose an issue for my family.” She went on, “So, I asked Felix to help me dodge him instead, since he could invoke Fraldarius authority.”

He wasn’t sure what compelled him to ask but- “Why did you not come to me until now?”

“Your Highness...” How he dreaded her calling him that... “You are... you have the tendency to be...  _ aggressive, _ with troublesome people. I don’t want any blood being spilled on my behalf.”

“You suspect that I would kill him?”

“I know you would.”

_ She knew him so well... _

Dimitri had spoken less than ten words to Iscariot, but he knew that he hated him. By the Goddess, did he  **hate him** . The audacity he had, to smile, and let (Y/N)’s name fall from his lips, when he knew he should not have been anywhere near her. Wretched, disgusting bastard. The Prince would not let this stand, for her sake. He would not let him get away with frightening  _ his _ \- He would not let him get away with frightening (Y/N).

He had his suspicions that the persistent stranger, having crossed half the continent from Fraldarius Territory, would not be deterred for long. For a brief time, Dimitri accompanied her everywhere. People found the idea of him not cloistering himself in the cathedral to be surprising, not that their opinion mattered to him. But the dead... They were irritable. He reasoned that her safety was very necessary for him to carry on his vow to avenge them. Some of the voices were less convinced than others,  _ ‘Why? Why?! Is she more important than us being laid to rest?!’  _ But he did his best to tune them out. He accompanied her as often as he could, which meant he was by her side unless she was working in the infirmary. She seemed pleased by him being visible to the troops. Did she enjoy being proven right? 

He also took meals with her. It reminded him of how things were when they were the only living beings in the monastery. He refused to admit to himself that he found some shreds of enjoyment in that time. Although it made him anxious as things were now. Too many people around. Too many that he did not recognize. Putting himself in this position would be worth it though. He knew that rat would appear sooner or later.

Iscariot appeared during an early dinner. They had been eating before the rush because (Y/N) had noticed Dimitri disliked the crowds. She was so thoughtful. The rat had learned her routine again, and had been waiting for a moment to catch her alone. The prince had made certain no opportunity was possible. He did not face the woman while they ate. He was always seated at the edge of the table, prepared to stand and get away from the masses. The rat must have believed that she was eating alone.

“Lady (Y/N)~!” He called in a sing-song voice. “I have been searching for you, sweet flower!”

She ducked lower towards the table in an attempt to shrink out of sight, but he was already behind her.

Every muscle in The Prince’s body tensed as Iscariot took her by the shoulder, “Why have you not returned my messages, my lady.”

“I have, Romero,” She grunted, failing to shrug him off, “My letter said to stop trying to contact me.”

“I cannot understand why you avoid me!” His grip must have increased, because her face contorted into what the prince read as pain. “I-”

“Get your **filthy** hands off of her.” Dimitri snapped, loud enough to draw some attention. When he was not immediately heeded, he slammed down on the table and stood. Putrid, vile creature, hurting  _ his (Y/N), _ “I said unhand her!”

“You again...” Iscariot scowled at him, “Who do you think you are?”

He wanted to flaunt titles and status still, did he? Fine then. In a swift motion, His Highness lunged across the table, backhanding the man with his gauntleted hand with a satisfying  **POP.** “I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, rightful heir to the throne of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus,”

The man was reeling on the ground, holding his jaw. Dimitri must have dislocated it. He tried to squirm away, but the prince had already gotten to him, pinning him to the ground with a foot on his neck.

“Know your place, you disgusting beast.” He could have ended his life in a second. Just a quick stomp on his scrawny neck, and there would be no way he could ever bother  _ his (Y/N)  _ ever again. Unfortunate, that he knew that such violence would disturb her. “Understand this... The only reason I have not torn your throat out with my bare hand, is the knowledge that it would upset this woman that you insist on harassing.” He put just a bit more weight on his foot, emphasizing his words, “ If I ever see you in this monastery again, I will not repeat this mercy. I will rip your windpipe from your body, and I will feed it to the hounds! Have I made myself clear..?”

With tears streaming down his face, the man slurred out some sort of apology, coupled with frantic nodding. The Prince released him, and the suitor scrambled to his feet, stumbling away.

“That might have been a bit much but...” His Highness turned to look at (Y/N), praying she wasn’t too shaken by what he had just done. She came forward and wrapped her arms around him, “Thank you, Dimitri...”

_ How sweetly she said his name... _

Scaring off that pathetic excuse for man should have been the end of it, but no. His fury had lingered yet, and he could not fathom why. Why did he perceive those around her as threats? Why was he angry at any man who approached her? Why was he in pain when she smiled at any of them? Why did it make him want to rip his still-beating heart out of his chest?

Why did that anguish go away when she was only around him?

This was a rage he had only felt on the battlefield, but it arose in him constantly. It appeared when it shouldn’t have. Against allies, people who were, despite how he was, loyal to him. When he watched her speak to Felix - who he knew was like a brother to her. When she and Sylvain played chess together. When Ashe brought her a new book. When they got Dedue back and she gave him a hug. Why? Why?!  **WHY?!** This could become a problem outside of the dead coming to loath (Y/N). There was a very real possibility that he could lash out at his other generals.

But when it was just the two of them, things almost felt like they were alright. After days of on and off chest pain, it hit him like a meteor from the sky. He was  _ jealous _ . He did not know how he could be so, and yet he was. There was no other satisfying explanation. He wanted her attention on him, and him alone.

He conceded he could not have her all of the time. There was a line between jealousy and possessiveness that was not to be crossed. She was her own person. She had things to do, people she cared for. He could not keep her to himself, or he would be denying her her autonomy. That would have been about as evil as one could be. Not even he was that far gone.

If he wanted her affection, he was going to have to show her some in return in fairness. He racked his scattered mind for how he was meant to do that without getting so close as to further earn the ire of the damned. A balancing act. A form of plausible deniability from them. It came to him by complete accident.

He existed within a constant state of exhaustion. He could actually sleep standing up, but only in short bursts. Nightmares made sleep undesirable, but it was a necessity he was bound to succumb to. He was under the impression that (Y/N) would be working a late shift in the infirmary, meaning the room that they had been sharing would be empty. The bed would be empty. He could close his eye for a few hours off the floor. Being relatively rested would make him more effective in battle. His impression was incorrect, just as he was lying down, he heard a yawn in the hallway. 

“G’night Fe...” She opened the door, “Oh, hello...”

He was looking at a woman who had had a very long day. She was too exhausted to even shy away from him when she changed into her nightgown. All she had done was turn her back to him.

“Are you staying here tonight?” She asked through another yawn, “Should I go sleep somewhere else?”

“Don’t be foolish.” Was he really being given exactly what he wanted? Did he really deserve that? “Lie down.” Surely the dead could see that they were both too sluggish to search for an alternative.

She let out a huff of a laugh, “We haven’t shared the bed for a few weeks,”

“What does it matter? It’s a place to sleep.” He moved back as she came to lay down next to him.

“I guess you’re right.” Her head was about level with his chest. “Good night, Dima...”

_ Dima..? _

He woke at dawn with her curled against him, and his arms around her. This was not how they fell asleep, and yet he was in the realm of relief. This was reciprocation. It satiated him.

And yet, it did not deter outside individuals.

He may have been able to cope with men that he knew being around (Y/N), as he repeated to himself a nauseating amount of times that they were her friends and allies. But it was strangers like Iscariot that he could not rationalize. He didn’t know them. He didn’t know their intentions for  _ his- _ He had slipped up with that thought a few too many times. He began to scowl at soldiers he had observed her treating after battle. He could not help it. He could not stand the thought of sharing her valuable time with anyone.

She visited him in the cathedral with a flower in her hand. He was suspicious of it. Anyone who knew her knew that she preferred gladiolus to any type melanium. “This? Oh, some man gave it to me at the market.”

“...”  _ How dare... _

“Um... Are you...”

“...” Insignificant wretch.  _ How dare he- _

“Dimitri, are you okay?”

“May I see it?” He asked quietly. His words were spoken softly, as she raised it to him. He had been making an effort to address her more gently than he did other people. He came very close to losing what little control he had. He looked down at the pansy in his hand. He could have just crushed it. It was a weak bloom, it wasn’t particularly colorful for a garden flower. But that might have upset her. He looked back up at her, and tucked the flower stem behind her ear. It looked much better there.

Her face grew a bit red, but a smile spread across her face, and turned into a giggle. That smile was just for him...

How was he to prevent people from daring to take that from him? No, no, that was possessive. He did not want that... What he did want was some sign that she was not available to their advances. Too many suitors refused to adhere to the rejection of her and her family. But they would leave her be if they had suspected she had become involved with someone else. He wanted to be that someone... He needed to be.

He could not help but watch her, the next night they shared the bed. He liked to look at her.

“Why are you staring at me?” She asked as she settled down beside him.

He could not answer that. Admitting that would enrage the dead. Yet he could not help but act without thinking. He brought a hand to her face, tilting her head up for him. Gently, ever so gently, he pressed her lips to hers. (Y/N) had enjoyed kisses, more than anything else, whenever they had bedded. He was trying to please her, to make her understand that he would do this if she wanted, that he didn’t want her to be this way with anyone else. He would not go too far tonight, knowing well how embarrassed she may get with other people occupying the rooms on either side of them.

“Oh.” When they broke away, she blushed, then she gave him a peck on the cheek. “Goodnight to you too.”

Days passed much the same, until she approached him again in the cathedral.

“Dimitri... I think you need to settle down.” She put her hands on her hips, and gave him a pout. It reminded him of how one might scold a puppy. “I don’t know why you’re doing it, but you need to stop frightening the foot soldiers.”

His brow furrowed. It wasn’t like he went out of his way to scare troops. If anything, he made a point of keeping to himself with few exceptions. “Explain.”

She gave him an exasperated sigh, “We don’t have enough medics to begin with, but now a concerning number of male patients are refusing treatment for dire injuries from me, because they’re scared that you’re going to break their neck.”

“I cannot be blamed for their cowardice.”

“No, I think you can,” She was unconvinced, “Why do you glare at them so much?”

Perhaps he had less of a handle on his outward expression than he would have liked. Again, he had no answer for her. Did she truly not realize..?

(Y/N) shook her head, “Just... stop doing that to them.”

He would make an attempt, at her behest. Goddess, was it a struggle. He had to do something to keep them away from her.

Another night in bed together came. He might have been doing this on purpose... She didn’t seem to mind. If anything she seemed happy about the soft peck she got each night. She would give him some in return. Further reciprocity that he so desired. Perhaps all that was why she let him press her against him harder. No objections as he moved to get on top of her.

She groaned a bit, and he pulled away so that she could breathe. “Hey, are you...”

“If you want me to stop, tell me.” He would always stop if she said to. Always. There was just one thing he wanted to do first. Her body was always warm and comforting. She was familiar. He continued on, kissing down her jaw to her neck. Right where he wanted to be. He nipped at her.

“Dimitri..!” (Y/N) was trying to keep her voice down, meanwhile her heart hammered away in her chest. “You’re going to leave a mark...”

That was his intention. He needed people to know that she was taken, so that they would stop pursuing her to the ends of the earth. Of course, only as long as she didn’t say to stop. With a lap of his tongue, he moved lower, and then bit down again, harder this time.

“Eep-!” Again, she tried to quiet herself, to maintain her composure. “You’re being a bit rough, Dima...”

Hm... He had forgotten his own strength again, hadn’t he..? It would do poorly to frighten her. Fine then, enough of that. He raised himself up, and took a brief second to study what he had done. It would bruise. It might even leave teeth marks. All the better.

She looked back up at him, blushing furiously. “That’s enough for now, alright..?”

 _Cute._ Cute, and only for him to see, “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey jealousy, hey jealousy~! I hope this was what you were looking for! And good lord, do I hope I toed the line correctly to avoid possessive tendencies. Remember folks, jealousy is a normal human feeling, but possessiveness is not. KNOW THE DIFFERENCE.
> 
> How are you guys doing? Staying safe, I hope. I've got three one-shots in progress, and I'm making good time with them, since I wrapped up my finals. Stay well my dears, you know how to reach me~!


	28. Bird Cage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao, updating on thursday again? It's just like the original fic!
> 
> For MaMinette. A follow up of a follow up if you catch my drift. Oops, a happy ending has consequences!

The Sunset Lady, called so for her stunning eyes, remembers the first time she ever saw her father upset. It was the first time she had ever had any reason to be afraid of him. It was the only time, however. He hadn’t ever acted that way since. Never losing that gentle softness in his eye, scarcely ever raising his voice outside of meetings. But as Aria grew older, she realized it was the same time when she grew to have more in-common with a bird in a cage, than she did with most other people.

What led up to it was somewhat blurry. She could not quite remember all the details. The royal family was summering in the Queen’s homeland of Itha. Lambert was trying to teach Ellie how to swim in the nearby creek. Six, and she didn’t know how to swim! Aria had learned when she was maybe five? She sat watching her siblings from the shore with one of their guards. According to Lammy, the royal children didn’t always have soldiers following them everywhere they went, but that was all she ever knew growing up.

“Are you sure you do not want to join your brother and sister, Your Highness?” His name was William, and he was the nicest boy Aria had ever met. He was a very good swordsman, trained in the Monastery Officer’s Academy, and he was one of the only guards in the castle who ever agreed to spar with her. They always preferred to spar with Lambert, because he could handle hits better.

“Yes, if my hair gets tangled before dinner, the maids will be upset with me...” She responded, watching Ellie paddle towards her big brother. “Besides I-” The words caught in her throat. And then she coughed. And again. Her mouth tasted metallic.

“Princess..?” Aria remembers the way William looked down at her. The fear in his pretty green eyes, “Princess!” He lowered her to the ground desperately trying to suppress his panic, trying to shield her, “Prince Lambert, assassins!”

Her side hurt terribly, almost burning her. Looking down at her hip, she saw a growing red splotch, and what looked like an arrow head in the middle. Someone had shot her, she realized as her consciousness began to fade.

“Your Highness, take your sisters and run!” William ordered.

She was in and out, flashes of seeing her brother and sister as she was carried back to the (L/N) Estate. She awoke to the pain finally easing in her wound, her mother cradling her closely, healing her. Ellie was holding her hand, sobbing. They were in the front garden, in such a rush they hadn’t even made it into the building. But Aria was looking past all that, at her father, and her brother.

“Who did this..?” Her father growled, “Who did this to my child?!”

Lammy was almost doubled over, gasping for air. He had run as fast as he could to get the girls to safety. “W-William went after them,”

“Lambert,” King Dimitri had seized the prince by the shoulders. There was a darkness in his eye. “Which way did they go?” She had never heard such a rasp in his voice before.

“Upstream from the creek.” His son had answered dutifully, “Father, are you-”

The King turned to another guard. “Get me Areadbhar!”

Aria fully came to, tucked into a bed in her grandfather’s estate. Her mother was running her fingers through her hair. “Mama...”

“Hey kiddo,” Her Majesty spoke softly, calmly, “I’m right here.”

“Wha... What happened?” She asked, struggling to sit up.

“Easy, easy, Sweetpea...” Her mother kept her down. Mother knew best, and mother was also a trained physician before she married, Aria knew she had to yield, “You got hurt, but you’re gonna be okay.”

“Is everyone alright?”  
“Lambert and El are fine, don’t worry.”

“What about William?”

“I don’t know yet, kiddo.” Her mother frowned, “I don’t want you fretting over anyone right now. I want you to rest.”

There were voices in the hall that Aria could hear. It was audibly her father, and Captain Dedue. “Let me through! Where is she?!”

“Dimitri,” Dedue attempted to reason, “It is ill advised to see her like this...”

Queen (Y/N) was already making strides across the room, trying to beat them to the door.

“I will not be kept away from my child!” The door burst open. The Queen gasped at what she saw, and she pressed her husband out of the room. Aria still saw it, the state her father was in. His pretty blond hair, dishevelled, stained somehow. The white fur on his cloak had splotches of red all over it. His face had red splatter too. Red. So much red. “Let me see her!”

“Dimitri!” Her mother shouted, “You’ll scare her!”

“Is she alright?!”

“She’s fine! Dima, please..!” The queen attempted to ease his fears, “Take a deep breath, go clean yourself up, and then you can come see her, okay?”

He must have obeyed, because when Aria saw her father next, his hair was wet, his clothing was clean, and there wasn’t the slightest hint of red anywhere on him. He did not look any less worried, but he was infinitely less frightening in appearance than he had been earlier.

With a grunt she forced herself to sit up, despite the Queen’s protest, “Papa..!”

“My baby girl...” He whispered. King Dimitri wanted to hold his daughter more than words could possibly express, but he wasn’t confident in controlling his strength in his worry. He settled for kneeling next to her bed. “My baby...”

She was the one who scrambled to dive into him for a hug. She happily let him rock her back and forth, just like he used to when she was much smaller. “What happened..?”

“Aria, my little Aria, I promise you...” The rocking stopped, “I won’t ever let anything happen to you ever again.”

No one explained to her in full what had occurred that day. All she learned, through extremely persistent questioning, was that the sweet guard was now gone, because he tried to protect her. One could say, perhaps in poor taste, that Aria’s freedom might have died with William.

The transition wasn’t necessarily troubling to her at first. There was a shift from being able to take classes every few days at the School of Sorcery, to only being allowed to attend a bi-weekly seminar, to tutors coming to visit the palace instead. That wasn’t too odd. Lambert had followed a similar course, his latter education being handled by his parents on the subject of governance. Ellie would likely encounter something similar when she got older. It was the social aspect that cued her in that something was not right. Aria was no longer allowed to go dashing about the market as she was known to do, where she would play with the city children. Her games with the servants' children in the palace were cut short, or were heavily supervised by an almost comical number of troops, making everyone uncomfortable. Even her contact with the children at the school for the people of Duscur that Mercedes and Dedue had opened was limited. Her pool of close friends were mostly parsed down to the children of close noble families - and they were dear to her, but distance and travel time often kept her away from them. Their ties were maintained through letter writing, which was well and good, but she was lonely.

Terribly, terribly lonely.

Aria was also bored out of her mind. She was made to take dance lessons for parties and balls that she was not allowed to attend. The lessons were kept between the royal children. No other friends about. The staff and guards were forbidden by the king from sparring with her, meaning improving her swordsmanship was limited to lessons from Lord Fraldarius on his occasional visit, and getting her ass kicked by her lance-wielding older brother with super strength - and her father wanted to cut back on that too! How was she meant to get physically stronger under these circumstances? The Queen had volunteered to conduct magic duels with her, to improve her ability there at least, but Aria was more fond of reason magic, than she was of her mother’s preferred white magic. It was better than nothing, but her heart just wasn’t in it...

“We should let her take fencing lessons,” She heard her mother say. The King and Queen were having a cup of tea together in the palace garden. 

Aria had been taking a stroll through the nearby hedges, trailed by her pair of day guards. Claudia, and Theo Ubert. They were a bit younger than most of her other protectors. If she had to guess, it was so they could feel more like friends to her. Probably her mother’s idea... Children of Lord Ashe Ubert of Gaspard territory, more trusted allies of the royal family, and from a family that was particularly sympathetic to the Duscur people. They were nice to her, but they were closer in age to Lambert. There was a gap in maturity, she was acutely aware, and she did not wish to bother them by trying to get them to play childish games with her.

“I do not... I do not feel comfortable letting her leave the palace grounds,” Her father answered, “Nevermind letting strangers around her wield weapons in her presence.”

Theo and Claudia knew a lot about flowers, because of their father. They would help Aria pass the time in the gardens by telling her about the different types of blooms in season. Anemone, poppy, carnations...

“Dimitri, they’re fencing weapons - they break before any damage can be done.” Queen (Y/N) reasoned, “We can host them on palace grounds, let the staff’s children attend if they want.”

Claudia clipped a blossoming poppy stem for the princess, handing it to her so that she could study it.

“Why must we do this, my beloved?”

Aria’s fist clenched around the stem, crushing it, breaking it. _Why?_ **_WHY?!_ **

“She needs to socialize, Dima...” The Queen took a polite sip of tea to add some punch to her next point, “I thought you would know better than anyone, what isolation can do to a person.”

Theo frowned down at her, “Princess Aria, why did you do that?” The siblings had the same green eyes of their father. They reminded her, very painfully, of William. How long had it been..?

“I know... but I-“ her father answered so hesitantly, “Dedue and Felix have been investigating for well over a year now. They have even enlisted Yuri’s assistance, trying to find leads that just aren’t there... Until I know who would do this, I just can’t bear the thought of her going anywhere...”

Aria sighed at the crushed bramble in her hand, “It’s sad, but being cut off from the rest of the plant was going to kill it regardless.”

“To be fair,” Though Queen (Y/N) was out of the princess’s direct line of sight, she could picture the wince, “There were leads, but you kinda... _Areadbhar-ed_ them...”

Claudia sadly plucked the broken flower from Aria’s grasp, “We could have put it in a vase for a little while, Your Highness.”

“I-I know...” There was an audible tightness, or rather a dryness to the King’s voice, “When Lambert brought her back, I snapped... And when I saw them strike down...”

“So it would have died slowly, and even more alone!” The princess snapped. She never liked raising her voice, especially at nice people like the Ubert siblings. “... Please excuse my rudeness... Why don’t we go to the library for the afternoon instead..?”

Three days later, her father presented her with a practice sabre. She was permitted one fencing lesson per week, following her garden outburst, which she knew her parents had overheard. They were held on palace grounds, but people from the world outside of the stone walls she called home could participate. It was the thing she looked forward to most, for the next seven years. It was wonderful, and fun, and she met many interesting individuals, but there was only so much a weekly appearance could do to humanize her, to make her tangible to more of the world.

_Coverture._ She realized one day, reading some old fairy tales. She lived under _Coverture._ She was cloistered away from the public eye under her parent’s guardianship in all aspects of life, to the point that her appearance was a major event - an oddity - a show. And it would remain that way until she got married - if she was even allowed to do that!

Lambert was the only child of the royal family that the common people saw regularly. He was actively encouraged to join his father with his many trips to the smaller villages of the country. The Crown Prince ought to be familiar to his future subjects, as they must be familiar to him so that he could rule them justly in the future. The kid was Major Crested, and trying to punch him would result similarly to punching a boulder. There was no fuss about his safety. Meanwhile, it was a public spectacle when the princesses were seen. Ellie was kept under a watchful eye due to a debacle when she was young where she disappeared for a few days, only to come back with Lambert- the details on that whole event were spotty. Aria was kept to the palace, almost exclusively, and if she had around fifteen guards, she was permitted to explore Fhirdiad. People did not generally approach due to her entourage.

It should not have been a surprise to see the lovely young lady, but she was so absent from publicity that she always was a shock.

“That’s her. The Duscur Princess!” 

“The Sunset Lady,” 

“She is as beautiful as a Duscur Desert Rose!” 

That last one was not nearly as much of a compliment in awe as the other two were. It was saddening, sometimes, how little many people knew about her birthplace. Duscur was not a desert. It was grassy plains, in the shadow of the mountains. There were roses in Duscur. Aptly called ‘Duscur Roses,’ but they had much more in common with Bella Donna Roses than they did with Desert Roses...

Things were getting better for the lot of the Duscur people. Having reclaimed the land from the razed wasteland it had become was yielding good crop results, enough to sufficiently sustain the population. Many Duscur soldiers had served during the War of Unification with distinction, elevating public opinion, gaining the respect they were due. Of course there was also the campaign by King Dimitri to establish the true culprits of The Tragedy, extensive reparations due to the survivors of the pogroms, and his own repentance for not being able to do more for the innocent people sooner. But still, there was just so much that the people of the rest of the continent did not know - did not bother to know about an entire culture within it. Perhaps it would take some more time. Lambert would certainly continue the crusade for equality when he took the throne.

Why did there have to be such a mystique surrounding her existence? Why could she not have been seen as the person that she was - and why on the Goddess’s green earth could no one do their damn research?!

She closed her copy of the Luna Knight, and she looked to her father, scribbling away at the parchments on his desk. She had been spending time with him, reading to him to help him pass the time, “Father?”

He looked up from his work, smiling at her, just like he always did, “Yes, Aria?”

She hadn’t seen him upset in years, and yet she could not help but fear that what she was about to say would send him to somewhere dark. But she could not be trapped in this palace all her life. She needed to see the world. She would risk it for that prospect. “... I want to attend the Officers Academy.”

“Oh...” His smile fell quickly, gone in a blink. But he did not raise his voice, he did not scowl, “Why would you want to do that, my dear girl?”

“Lambert was allowed to go when he turned seventeen.”

The princess had his attention, “You don’t have to do everything that your brother does.” He had even set his quill down.

“That is not my point.” She shook her head. “I want to see Fodlan. I want to travel... I want to meet people.”

There was a pause between the two of them. King Dimitri took a slow breath, before he finally said, “I do not believe that that is necessarily the safest course of action for you.”

She gave him a pause of her own, though not intentionally. If anything, she had been stunned into silence. And then eight years of bitterness had bubbled to the surface in a rage, “Are you joking?!” She threw her poor novel down in frustration, “‘Safety?!’ No one has touched a hair on my head for eight years! What are you and Mother so afraid of?!”

Her father’s jaw clenched, “We almost lost you, Aria. Do you understand what that would have done to us..?”

She understood. She was their baby girl, but it was her life, “ **I** was the one who almost died! **I** am the one who processed that fear, by myself, because you kept me away from others!” She could feel herself shaking with rage, and she desperately attempted to settle herself. Screaming at her father wouldn’t yield results. He was a diplomat. He functioned on reason, on discussion. “I am not afraid of the world around me. I have not been for a very long time. One attempt on my life is frightening, I know. But it was only one-”

“It wasn’t,” Dimitri interrupted her, “It wasn’t the first time.”

Okay... That was **_very new_ **information. “I beg your pardon, Father?”

“Eight years ago, was the second...” And after divulging that bombshell of a tidbit, His Majesty clammed up. Not another word escaped him, though he grew pale in the face.

“F-father?!” Confirmation on the point had left Aria flustered, “What do you mean it was the second time?!”

“We are not having this conversation right now.” The King refused to answer, very calmly still.

“Father, you cannot just say such a thing, and then not elabor-”

“Aria.” The King stood from the table, and Aria lost the ability to speak. He repeated himself. “We are not having this conversation.”

Her father would not lay a hand on her. Not in this life, not in the next. Never. But his stature and tone alone struck a fear into her, so great that it made her temporarily forget his gentle nature. “Yes sir.”

“My little Aria...” King Dimitri sighed heavily, that great height of his diminishing as he slouched, almost sadly, “I’m going to go speak to your mother. Why don’t you go find your brother and sister?”

The Queen’s voice resonated throughout the entire palace, **“FUCK.”**

“Oh, she’s mad.” El quipped.

Lambert shook his head, “That's not her angry voice, that's her, ‘I didn’t see this coming and I don’t like that,’ voice.”

“How can you tell?” Ellie munched on the pastry her brother had brought from his daily walk through Fhirdiad. Aria silently took a small bite of her own.

The Crown Prince had joined his sisters on their little picnic blanket they had set up in the garden, “If she was that upset, we would hear more than just one cuss word.” Lambert was the only one who was allowed to go horseback riding without a security detail. That wasn’t very fair to the girls, so a picnic was the best they could do for being outside if they wanted to chat.

El nudged her sister, “So... How did it go?”

The pastry was delicious. She loved sweets. And yet Aria had no appetite. “I told father that I wanted to attend the Officer’s Academy.” She kept her voice down. Even now, they were surrounded by their guards. The siblings couldn’t even have a moment to themselves.

“Great!” Her big brother smiled down at her, almost reliving his happy school days at the mere mention of the place, “And..?”

“It did not go well, Lammy... Not well...”

“Oof.” That was one way to react, “I could try speaking to them, if you would like.” Lambert was a good young man. He understood the privilege he had over his sisters. The lack of supervision he had in many aspects of his life. He tried to use that to help them as best he could.

Aria shook her head, “Maybe in a few days. I think I stressed father out.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes, “Why would asking to go to school freak him out so much?”

Aria did not know what to say. How was she supposed to explain to her little sister that her father had kept another attempt on their lives secret for nearly sixteen years?

She did not leave her chambers for the next couple days. Theo and Claudia, ever by her side, kept her company, brought her books, and flowers from the garden. Claudia even agreed to a few short play-bouts. It kept her blood flowing, so that was nice, but more than anything, she just wanted to lay in bed. At first Lambert thought she may have been ill, but upon further investigation, no. Ellie was the one who deduced that she was experiencing a bout of melancholia.

That was what sent the Queen to check on her in the evening. The royal couple had figured their daughter would want some space, but if she was struggling, falling into a depressive state, they needed to be with her. “Hey Sweetpea,” Queen (Y/N) nodded to the guards, and they took it as a sign to step out of the room for a bit.

“Mother.” Aria rolled over in the bed to face her.

The Queen pulled the chair from the Princess’s dressing vanity up by the bed. She sat down with a heavy sigh. “So... I’m assuming you have some questions.”

Oh, she had quite a few. The interrogation began, “When was the first time..?”

“Just a few days after your father had brought you here from Duscur.”

So when she was an infant. Someone out there was willing to murder an infant. “And how did it happen?”

Her mother scowled, “Someone bribed the guard watching your nursery to abandon his post. They snuck into your room.”

“How did I survive?”

“You never made much of a fuss when you were a baby,” The scowl faded from her mother’s face, she looked to her child fondly, “Even now, you just keep quiet when you’re upset... But, that night, you were screaming - I had never heard that from you. I went to go check on you, and when I opened the door, there was a woman I had never seen before, dressed as one of the nursemaids. She was holding a knife over your cradle.”

Aria watched her mother’s hand clench with rage, “And?”

“I rushed the bitch, clocked her in the face as hard as I could, grabbed you, and ran like hell.” The anger subsided as a satisfied smirk grew on the Queen's face. “Apparently I broke her nose. Serves her right...”

“Why did she try to kill me..?” A baby... Why did that woman try to kill a helpless baby?

Her mother’s expression shifted again, this time much more forlorn. “She didn’t believe the truth about The Tragedy... Refused to accept the innocence of the Duscur people. Word got out that Dimitri wanted to adopt you... She couldn’t understand that. It made her angry.”

“Angry enough to kill me...” She hadn’t realized it, until her mother had wiped a tear from her face, that she had begun to cry. “Why didn’t you ever tell me..?”

“It isn’t easy to find the words...” The Queen ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair, “How do you tell your baby girl, that no matter the evidence, no matter what she does, there will be people out in the world with enough hatred in their heart to want her dead?” She wiped away some tears of her own. This was one of the most uncomfortable conversations she had ever been a part of, “We didn’t want you to be afraid of people your whole life, but after we lost that guard, all those years ago... Our best idea was to keep you in our reach at all times, limit the chance of people like that ever getting near you...”

William dying had been the breaking point. His presence was supposed to be a happy medium. A way for her to be out and about, and he died for it. “The second time..?”

“... We still don’t know.” Her mother rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, “It could have been more people in denial, it could have been a group purposefully trying to destabilize the reconciliation. We didn’t have a lot of leads because...”

“Because father...” She couldn’t finish that thought. Her papa was such a gentle soul. Strong as he was, intimidating as he could appear, he wouldn’t...

“Yes... I hadn’t seen him like that since the war... Aria, your father and I love you very much, you know that.”

That hadn’t been in doubt. Still, all this isolation hurt her deeply. She needed that to end.

“Your father wants to come talk to you, but he’s worried that he frightened you the other day.”

“I’m not scared of him,” She grumbled into her sheets, wiping her eyes. She wasn’t scared of anyone, least of all her old man. “He can come by...”

Her mother gave her a good genuine smile, none of the smugness, all of the softness. “I think he’ll be happy to hear that.”

Aria nodded quietly. Maybe that would make him easier to negotiate with. 

Her mother kissed her forehead and stood, making her way to the door. “Ah- Oh! Hey, eavesdropping isn’t very kingly.” There were hushed whispers from the hallway, until the Queen finally exclaimed, “That’s actually really cool- okay- proceed!”

Theo and Claudia stepped out of the way, bowing to His Majesty. In came her father, hiding something behind his back. Still, he lurked by the doorway, unsure how far to go.

“Come in, father.” Aria sat up in her throne of blankets and sheets.

The King let the door close behind him, and he stepped forward, “Your mother told you everything?” He asked, taking a seat.

“Yes,” She crossed her arms, “But it hasn’t changed my mind.”

“I had a feeling you would say that...” He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping very well. It was his telltale sign for stress. Whenever something was wrong, whenever something important was left unfinished, if something was on his mind, His Majesty would stay awake.

“I feel trapped, father. I understand why you are worried for me, but this has grown to be suffocating.” That was a very nice way of saying she felt like she was dying of loneliness. “You know I am perfectly capable of defending myself.” 

“I do not doubt that, my dear. And so...” He finally revealed what he had been hiding since he walked in. He presented to her, with the utmost delicacy, a sheathed cavalry sabre. The scabbard was a polish blue stained wood, the guard was an elegant silver basket twist.

“This is...” Taking it into her own hands, the grip was bound with well wrapped leather. Popping the blade from the sheath revealed a well honed steel edge. This wasn’t a training weapon. This was a genuine blade. The more she looked at it, the more she realized it resembled “An officer's sabre..?”

“It is similar to the ones used at the academy, yes.” He motioned for her to lay the blade down. “I am still... weighing that option.”

So this was just a consolation gift for the time being. Alright, still this was more progress than she had seen in nearly a decade.

“The anxiety at the mere prospect is something I am still processing. For your sake, I will be trying to relax... Consider this a step in the direction you are hoping for.”

“I see...” The blade was a sign of trust, and a slight concession, but freedom would be delayed for just a bit longer. “Thank you, Father.”

“I will leave you be for now, but your mother and I will be discussing this in the future. You and I can go for a ride tomorrow, without security,” He reached out, and ruffled her hair the slightest bit. His little girl wanted to grow up. Was he ready for that? “Goodnight, my dear.”

“Goodnight, _Papa_...”

The King left his child for the evening, allowing Claudia to return to her side. “It’s a very nice blade, Your Highness.” She commented. It seemed she was her guard for the evening shift as well.

“So it is...” Aria had it next to her on the bed. She wasn’t sure what else to do with it, still not particularly wanting to get out of bed.

She outstretched a kerchief to her, so that Aria could deal with her tears more properly, “Are you retiring for the evening, Princess?”

“I believe so...”

Claudia bowed her head, “I will take my place outside the door then. Goodnight, Your Highness...”

Claudia was the best, honestly. She had begun to understand Aria’s troubles immediately after her outburst as a child. She had always been more cautious in the way she spoke to the princess, trying to keep her company when she needed, trying to give her space when it was wanted. Like another member of the family. Lord Ubert had raised two wonderful children. Aria felt safe, knowing the lady guard was there... She laid down, one hand on the sabre scabbard, the other curling silken sheets, and down comforters over herself.

Aria’s eyes snapped open. Her room was dark and still, save for the light of the moon, and the glow of the hall seeping under the door, blocked partially by Claudia on the other side. If she had to guess, it was around the dead hour. She nestled back into her sheets. Letting her heavy eyes close again. There was a creak from somewhere in the room. She snapped upright, clutching the sabre to her.

She searched the room wildly, but as she had first analyzed, it was dim, nothing was specifically visible to her. Just the dark, and the vague outlines of furniture. She sighed and slouched... Maybe she was just as stressed as her father was about things. Or so she thought, until she heard another creak.

Things in the Palace did not creak. They did not bend, they did not break without reason. All materials had been built to be ‘Blaiddyd proof,’ or at the very least, the living quarters were. A draft in the air would not cause such a sound. Why was her floor-

It happened again, somewhere in the shadows. Someone was in the room with her.

She feigned a yawn, “... Claudia?”

“Yes, Your Highness?” Her guard called through the door.

“I am having troubling sleeping. I’m going to join you in the hall.” She spoke back, loudly, audibly, to mask the sound of her slowly drawing the sabre from its sheath.

“Alright?” Claudia sounded confused. The Princess could see that she was turning around under the door.

Aria heard another creak. She knew it was not her shifting on the bed, she had not moved. And yet... It sounded like it was under her...

Her guard opened the door. The Princess saw her eyes flick down for a moment. “Leap off the bed, Princess, it will help wake you up a little.”

It may not have been the most subtle thing she could have said, but it confirmed Aria’s suspicions. Someone was under her bed. Jumping to get to Claudia was to prevent them from grabbing her. “How fun...” She raised her sabre and stood on her mattress. She watched the guard reach out to the side. Her lance must have been against the wall. Aria’s hands did not tremble. Her fencing had trained her hands well, but her legs were shaking. Another attempt on her life, when she had barely come to terms with what her parents had revealed to her... As her mother would say _‘This is bullshit,’_ It seemed those same instincts that saved her the first time were kicking in now.

She leapt off the bed, and scrambled into the waiting arms and armour of Claudia, who immediately whirled her around to the safety of the hall. The guard drew her lance into position, “We know you’re there! Get out where we can properly see you!”

Aria could now see from where she stood, the light of the hallway reflecting off of someone’s eyes. There really was someone under her bed. They were widened.

“I said out!” Claudia snapped. “Princess, call for more soldiers. There could be more than one...”

Goddess forbid... “Guards!” She yelled, “Help! There’s an intruder!” She could hear the door in her parent’s chambers slam open down the hall. That was an angry slam. She still kept her eyes in the room. What if there was more than one?!

Her guard marched another few feet into the room, as whatever rogue was there began a pathetic crawl out from under a young maid’s bed. The absolute cretin clutched a knife to his chest. He really was there to kill her. Claudia’s lance was at the ready, prepared to strike down at the stranger. But in the darkness of the rest of the room, something else moved.

Aria dashed forward, and clashed swords with another assailant who was going to attack the guard. The arming sword was a solid match to her sabre, but she had the element of surprise on her side. They had not anticipated that she would be armed, nevermind that she would join the fray. She was quick to parry their blade, while they were still off balance. Years of sparring with her brother had made her strong enough to do it with ease. She used her off hand to cast a ‘gentle’ thunder spell. She had no intention of killing these people, no. She simply wished to shock him into submission, because she needed them alive to get answers this time. No need to repeat mistakes.

Claudia had kicked the knife from the other man, and had pinned him to the floor with her lance poised at his neck. “Are you alright, Your Highness?”

Aside from the near uncontrollable rage boiling within her? “I’m unharmed. Are you?”

“I’m just fine, Princess.” She was untouched, because the princess had blindsided the second attacker.

“Aria!” Her father shouted, stampeding down the hall. These poor bastards had a storm coming for them.

“Listen well, you unscrupulous knave,” The Princess glared down at the man, who was just about finished convulsing on the ground, “If you do not want my father to crush your windpipe with his bare hand, then you will stay down!”

More guards came to the scene, and dragged the intruders away. The only reason His Majesty had not throttled the men, was he had swept his child off the ground.

“Father-” She had to mind her blade arm, otherwise she may have accidentally cut him, “I’m not hurt! Calm down!”

He took her word for it, but he couldn’t help but look her over. He searched around wildly for any potential injury, the slightest bruise, anything. 

“Father,” She repeated, calm as she was able. “I am fine. Please, put me down.”

King Dimitri did as his daughter requested. He watched her walk over to her bed where she had left the scabbard, so that she could properly sheath her new sabre. How would this have gone if she did not have that? He must have been showing his worry.

“Your Majesty, if I may. Princess Aria may have saved my life.” Claudia told him with a bow. “It seems her swordsmanship coaching has paid off.”

That was... reassuring to hear, honestly. She was able to protect herself, and others... “I see. You’re both unhurt then?”

“Hardly a scratch on either of us, Your Majesty.”

Aria finally came back over to him. “Father, you’re shakin-”

“Where’s my baby?!” Queen (Y/N) came screaming into the room.

The Princess, who had said that she wasn’t injured in the slightest far too many times, had no chance of dodging her mother’s bear hug. “For goodness sake, I’m fine!” She exclaimed, though her mother's grip may have cracked something.

“How can you be so calm about this?!” The Queen shook her.

“Because I know that I can protect myself.” Aria gave her mother a reassuring pat, “I also knew Claudia was with me. It’s all done with, there’s hardly anything to be worried over now.” It was all she could do to hope her parents would understand.

“Yuri was able to identify them by the tattoos on them. Felix is already gathering scouts to root out the rest of these ‘Scorpions,’” The King took a sip of tea. The royal family was burning through more chamomile than usual.

“The sooner we get rid of them the better. It definitely seemed like these were hired out men though...” Her Majesty momentarily lost her manors, hunching towards the garden table, propping herself up on her elbows. “How is Dedue managing the increase in guards per shift?”

“Apparently the troops are being very sympathetic, which is easing the burden. I would still like to give them something for their trouble...”

“Pay increase?”

“Pay increase.” He thought for another moment, “And maybe some small gifts for their families...”

“Aw, that would be sweet.” She looked out into the garden, “Speaking of sweet, hey kiddo.”

Aria approached her parents, bashful, almost flustered. This outfit was a bit more militaristic than how she normally dressed. “How does it look?”

“It’s alright, Sweetpea. Blue looks good on everyone in this family.” Her mother reassured her with a smile. “Give me a twirl,”

The Princess gave a quick spin, letting the blue shoulder cape swoosh dramatically, accentuating the silver detailing on her black uniform. The contrast made her eyes pop more.

“You look very nice,” Her father told her. “Promise me you’ll write to us often.”

“I’m not leaving for another week, but I’ll send you a carrier pigeon everyday, if it eases your nerves...”

“I would prefer that, yes.”

“Tell Byleth I said ‘hi,’ when you get there... And apologize for whatever mischief your brother didn’t tell us about. Oh, also, ask him what him and Yuri want for wedding gifts!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this was a neat romp! Having to think about the repercussions of what comes after the story without time travel shenanigans. Thank you for the request!
> 
> Next week is Ace: II, and then the week after... Something different, I suppose! That's all I've got in the works for request at the moment. So, y'all know the drill. Please stay safe out there!


	29. Ace II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ssiyckitten really dug the first one, and has asked for a follow up. On behalf of the ace-gang, Hell-fuck-yeah, I’ll make another. Let’s have some nice fluff!

You were very correct in your assessment. His Highness, as frightening as he had shown himself able to be, was completely, in the most absolute of senses, touch-starved. And he had no idea how to handle it, now that you were open to allowing him contact with you. He definitely enjoyed, or at least found some semblance of peace in being able to hold you. His breathing hitched less when he did so, and you had observed he seemed less tense when you were in his grasp.

And yet, he had no idea how to initiate it. It seemed as though he had forgotten how to show affection. His understanding of physical contact felt very... zero to one hundred. Either he was a recluse who wanted to be as far away from you, and every other living being as possible, or he simply found himself unable to let go of you. He needed an arm around your waist, his hand in yours. You did not mind, of course. But it was odd to try to act as if you had not been apart from each other for five years. It was difficult to act like he didn’t feel like a different person from your sweet prince. But you knew he was in there somewhere... He had to be. He had remembered a good amount of the boundaries you had set between the two of you.

Between his “rat hunting” expeditions, you had coaxed him into bathing, ridding himself of the frightening amount of blood and grime that he was coated in. Still he appeared disheveled, and if you did not know better, you would have thought he was sickly.

“Can I brush your hair?” You asked him before bed one evening, combing out your own hair.

You watched his eye narrow at you. Today must have been one of his less touchy days then... “Why?”

It looked like a bird's nest. Granted, it was a pretty color for a bird’s nest, but it was a complete mess nonetheless. It's such a small thing, keeping one’s hair neat, but it can make a world of difference in terms of self-maintenance. “It’s matted. We should really do something, or it will just keep getting worse...”

“I could do it myself.”

“You could, but you haven’t. Clearly for a good amount of time...” That last bit trailed off into a murmur. You perched yourself on the edge of the bed. “Come over here if you change your mind, I suppose.”

He remained at the desk, sharpening a few daggers he had scrounged up earlier in the day, leading you to believe he had declined your offer. Only for him to sit on the floor next to the bed several minutes later. “Be quick about this.”

“Oh dear...” That would be much easier said than done, you realized as you got a look at it up close. You tried to take a decent few strands in your fingers, but even that chunk was tied into a larger snarl of matted hair. “I’ll try... Sorry if I pull a bit too much. There are a lot of knots.”

He might have frowned in response to that, but he had his back to you, so you couldn’t be sure. He did not wince even once as you had to tug against the knots with a good amount of your might. Given his lack of reaction, you thought he had zoned out, as he often did. Goddess knows how long it took you, but you had managed to do away with the actual mats of tangles, were able to take his eye patch off, and had gotten it to a point where you could smoothly run your fingers through it. He sighed as you did. Apparently that must have felt nice.

“Your hair is... It’s actually really soft, once it’s combed out.” You noted, “Did you cut it recently?”

He answered, sounding very bored, “I took a blade to it a few days before I found you.”

“How long was it?” Frankly, you were surprised he even answered, knowing how he could get.

“What does it matter?”

“I was just curious...”

He was quiet, as you continued to smooth the stands out. ”... It was down to my elbows.”

“Thats so long!” You exclaimed, “What made you want to cut it?”

“It was getting in the way.”

Getting in the way of his murderous rampages against Imperial Patrols, you gathered. “Have you ever thought about tying your hair back? That might look nice...”

“... Pointless...” He grumbled. It seemed he wasn’t enjoying your attempt at small talk with him.

You went back to brushing your fingers through his hair. He was less grouchy when you were doing that, after all. You set about realigning where his hair parted, taking care to make sure it stayed out of his good eye, only for him to suddenly grab your wrist. It wasn’t aggressive, so you didn’t think you had done anything wrong, nor did it seem like an attempt to break your arm. Still it was enough to make you freeze. 

You felt his lips pressed to the heel of your palm. This was the first kiss of any kind that you had received from Prince Dimitri in five years. He was being so gentle about it out of necessity. It was another thing that he had forgotten how to do. If he wasn’t careful...

There was that distinct thud in your chest that had been dormant for a painful length of time. You felt your face heating up. It had been too long, far, far too long. What were you supposed to do in response to this sudden affection? Your thoughts on affection had remained much the same. You could not speak for him though... You leaned forward, and gave him a soft peck on the top of his head. That seemed like a safe option. It was nice, now that he smelled like soap. “I can make you tea tomorrow, if you want...” 

“Tea?” 

“There’s some chamomile flowers growing in the greenhouse. Chamomile was your favorite, right?” 

“... Yes.” He finally let go of your wrist. He did not add any ‘I think I would like that,’ or, ‘That sounds nice,’ But you figured it was on the tip of his tongue from his affirmation.

“It’s a date!”

Tomorrow came, and you had set about making him some tea as promised. But you were troubled by the fact that the dining hall kitchen had been turned upside down nearly five years ago. Where the fuck was the tea strainer? Where were the cups? How were you supposed to boil water when the stove was covered in Goddess knows how much dust? It looked like you were going to have to clean this place and reorganize everything if you were going to make this more manageable. You began post haste.

You started by removing all the dish and cookware, and setting it aside to rinse it of dust later, keeping an eye out for kettles and strainers, then you moved on to some of the food stored in the area. Some of the grains looked well enough, but a lot of the dried herbs had molded. It was gross. Trying to dispose of those without touching any of it proved to be an extensive detour from the task at hand. His Highness had even wandered in, likely because he hadn’t run into you at any other point that day. Awwww, he might have been worried about you.

“What are you doing?” He looked around to the organized chaos you had created.

“Well, I was looking for kettles and what not, and then I realized that this place was a mess and then- ... I got side tracked.” You shrugged. You could have stolen Alois’s joke about cleaning out the spices being a waste of thyme, but didn’t feel right about it, “I think I’m too far in to stop now.”

He took a seat on one of the tables and hunched over. You continued to shuffle about the kitchen, finally digging up a tea strainer! But much like the other utensils in the kitchen, it was very dirty. You were going to have to wash this along with everything else you were sorting... You looked back over to the prince, who was now resting his head on the table. He wasn’t trying to sleep, based on his breathing. He was just... brooding? You didn’t want him idle. Whatever was going on in his head got worse when he wasn’t keeping himself busy...

“Dimitri, can you start cleaning some of the dishes? It’ll speed things up a little.” You called over to him. “I promise I’ll start on the tea as soon as that gets done!”

With a groan, he sat back up. He must have really wanted that cuppa. He went and filled a basin of water, and scrubbed the dishware as you had asked. If he was not such a terrifying person, you would have audibly laughed. His Royal Scariness, quietly doing the dishes at your behest. How quaintly domestic this was...

You kept true to your word. As soon as he finished cleaning a kettle and the strainer, you got ready to brew and steep the chamomile. You stared out the window as you took a sip. “This is... nice.”

“Hm.” 

You decided to take that as him agreeing with you, “I’m trying to think when the last time was when I just... Sat down for a cup of tea.” You probably had at least once or twice within the past five years, but between all the field work, such pleasantries were not clearly recollected. “Do you-”

“I don’t remember.” He cut you off. He did not speak quickly, but there was an assertion in his tone that told you to not finish your question. Based on his circumstances from recent years, this activity was a low priority.

“Well, regardless,” You decided to pivot the conversation, “I hope you like the tea...” You felt a twinge of regret at your choice of words. He couldn’t taste it. You knew that.

He stared down at the tea cup in his hands, and you were suddenly aware of just how tired and haggard he was. The care you took to keep his hair out of his eye seemed moot with how it fell. It shaded his face in a way that made the bag under his eye look even darker. Still, he cradled the cup gently in his hands, trying not to break it. “It’s warm...”

“Is that a good thing?”

He nodded silently.

“Do you want to do this again sometime?”

He nodded once more.

“Okay, we can do this whenever you want. Just let me know!”

That fell into part of your routine together. Actually kind of like dating, and the cute little picnics and food testing you two used to do. He never directly asked for it, but every few days, whenever he appeared more exhausted than usual, you would brew him a cup. He slept better on those nights. The next day he would be in a marginally better mood. Happiness was a relative thing for him - but it was definitely an improvement. Less scowling, less growling. It made him more touchy of you, but in very sweet ways. More linking arms with you, more careful hugs. Things that respect your boundaries and contact preferences.

In return for tea, he would help you manage the garden. Which he probably should have been doing anyway since that was kind of the thing keeping the two of you alive, but given how he was... Better late than never.

He wasn’t much of a gardener to be honest. But, he was good at pulling up weeds, and good for helping to dig. You handled the more delicate tasks like pruning, harvesting, infusing some of the crops with magic to assist and speed their growth.

“Those are carrots, those are onions, I have the peach currants growing in the corner with the albinean berries, and then I have the zanado fruit and the tomatoes over here. Don’t touch them, okay?”

“What about the flowers?”

You give him a confused look, “Don’t tear up my flowers?”

“No, I want to know what kinds they are.”

“Oh!” You blinked. The Prince wanted a lesson in floriculture? “Well, there's some lilies, and daffodils over here. I moved the gladiolus outside the other day. There’s some pitcher plants growing in the back. I’m also taking care of the lavender and chamomile so that we can use it for tea. Um... And I’m taking care of some roses there!”

“They look nice.” He commented. And then, he suddenly jolted, clutching his head with a grunt.

You reached out to steady him, “Are you-”

“Don’t touch me!” He hissed, pressing your hands away. There was a very apparent display of restraint on his part. Him swatting you away instead could have easily broken one of your fingers

You took a step back to avoid panicking him any further. “What’s the matter?” You asked him in a low whisper.

He stormed out of the room with another groan, his head still in one hand. You did not see him again until the evening.

His hair was wet, leading you to believe he had gone off to slaughter some hapless imperial, and then he had cleaned himself up to avoid disgusting you. He was sitting at the desk, head resting on the table like he had before your first tea.

“Do you want me to brush your hair again?” It felt like you had asked an empty room, rather than the person with you.

He gave no reply, not even a grunt in disagreement.

You made a few careful, but audible steps towards him, not wanting to startle him. “Dimitri..?” You were certain he could see you as you reached out towards him, certain that he could see the object in your hand was a comb, and not something he needed to worry about. “... May I?”

He raised himself off the desk, somehow menacingly, “Do as you please.”

Spooky, but that didn’t sound like a ‘no!’ “Could you move your eye patch?” He made no sudden movements. You were going to have to do it yourself. You had guessed that he had wanted you to touch him, and this was a simple enough way to get you to. You did your best to remove the strap without ripping his hair out, and then you set about properly brushing his hair. It was definitely easier than it was last time, probably because you had prevented it from getting that bad. “How are you feeling?”

He gave you no answer. But he could not contain the sigh that accompanied your fingers threading through his hair.

“Better than earlier, I hope...” You coaxed him to turn and face you, so you could fix the part of his hair again. You got a good look at his blind eye. Grayish, scarred. Poor thing... Without too much thought you stroked his cheek. What happened to that sweet boy you loved so much? What did this man go through?

You felt him lean into your hand, “It was just a migraine...”

“How long have you been dealing with that?” You set the brush down on the table. Not much use for it now.

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, “Eight... Maybe nine years?”

_ Since The Tragedy... _ You felt a frown forming on your face. Nine years of enough pain to make him jump like that in a fraction of a second... That must have been unbearable. You let little sigils of light glow on your fingertips while you kept playing with his hair. Just an attempt to ease that agony.

“Don’t!” He got wise to what you were trying to do very quickly, grabbing your hands and pulling them away, “It’s a reminder... I cannot ignore them...”

‘Them,’ being the dead, you gathered. The phantoms he would speak to when he believed he was alone, the voices that demanded he go out and commit his atrocities. “You aren’t ignoring them, Dimitri. You’re taking care of yourself.” 

“I don’t deserve to do that.” Before he clutched them too tightly, and broke them, he released your hands, almost shrinking himself away from you.

“Dima...” What you heard made your heart ache. How broken was he, where basic self-maintenance, easing a migraine, brushing his own hair, making himself a drink - where those simple things were undeserved? “How are you supposed to help the dead if you have one foot in the grave..?” Was it even worth trying to reason with him with how he was? Your fingers glowed once more with white light as you tried to hold his face again. 

He didn’t reel back from you this time, but he was actively avoiding looking at you. “I cannot allow this.”

You let the white light fade, and dropped your hands, defeated. “Is there really nothing I can do..?”

“You do quite enough. Don’t trouble yourself over it.” The Prince stood from the desk and towered over you and everything else in the room. “Just make some tea tomorrow...”

Tea wasn’t going to fix a persistent migraine. Tea wasn’t going to fix hallucinations, or whatever other horrors lived in his mind. Not permanently anyway... “Are you certain?”

“Well...” His eyes narrowed, and for a second you thought he was mad, but that slight softness his gaze held for you remained. So it was contemplation then. With great hesitation, his arms curled around you. And as you stared up at him, he brought his lips to yours. Much like the kiss he had given your hand days prior, it was gentle, careful, almost chaste. Five years had gone by since you had done this. He broke away all too soon, fully aware of the time that had passed since, and how particular you were about such things. 

“Ah...” You were painfully aware of how red you were getting. Not wanting him to notice that, you kissed him again. It had been a while... You felt much like you did as a teenager, clumsily grasping at the front of his shirt.

To his credit, of everything he had forgotten on how to interact with you, he remembered to not escalate. He did not grope, he did not grab. You were the one with the preferred limitations. It was for you to decide. He did not go where he shouldn’t. He was letting you re-familiarize yourself with him. He had gotten taller, and buffer. You had to stand on the tips of your toes to reach him. When you finally broke away from him, he told you without a hint of humor in his voice, “This was nice. But I still want tea in the morning.”

You could certainly oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my bullet points for this one? “IT’S CALLED SELF CARE BITCH, LOOK IT UP!” I certainly hope you folks are taking care of yourselves during quarantine and all that. Try to have a regular sleep schedule. Though it pains me terribly, I try to get out of bed by 10AM. Remember to drink water, and do your best to get at least 10 minutes of sunlight each day. Stay well dears.


	30. Missing Person: Modern AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for queeniehoney. It’s my first modern AU request... Damn, I’ve written 30 oneshots, and this is the first modern one! Good lord. Well, here we go.

All things considered, you had a pretty good life growing up. Loving parents, good friends, a very good education. Damn shame that one of your classmates took over the local mafia from her father and had held up the school to take out the next generation of potential rivals, setting off a wild series of events that would change the course of your destiny forever. Shit is wacky like that sometimes, don’t you agree? You, a sweet little lady, attended Garreg Mach Preparatory School before you were going to start nursing school. That was the plan, and even after the chaos began, you were sticking to it.

You had no fucking clue precisely when shit had hit the fan. Things had been going pretty well that year, but apparently there was a storm brewing the whole time! You had made a lot of close friends, you were earning academic scholarships, and you were going to attend the next formal with one of the sweetest boys you had ever met. It was hard not to look at him and think of that one anime trope. You know the ‘School Prince,’ type? Like in another world, they would totally be an heir to a kingdom and they’d be super noble and chivalrous or something, but since it’s the modern period they’re just a pleasant to be around pretty-boy with a lot of money, and a fan club or a group of uncomfortably devoted followers. Yeah, that was your sweetheart alright. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, heir to the Faerghus Technical Corporation, and member of the student council.

The other members included your best friend and police chief’s grandson, Claude von Riegan, a young man who refused to be a charity case, Yuri Leclerc, and then... Edie. Er... Edelgard von Hresvelg. She was a determined young woman, and was willing to get her hands dirty to get her way. You admired that about her - until she, you know, revealed her new position as a crime lord, and then proceeded to off several classmates. Apparently they were set up to take over rival families in the future, or they were going to pose some other problem for her at some point... You could never quite wrap your head around why Dimitri was included in that.

The kid was going to have a lot of power and resources at his disposal when he grew up, but he never acted like it made him better than everyone. He was nice to any person that he met, stayed out of trouble, did lots of charity work. One time Claude’s car had broken down, and Dimitri had pushed it all the way to a mechanic for him. _ In the rain! _ ... He was a good person, through and through. For years you had asked yourself why the crime family wanted a tech company heir to disappear, especially someone like him. When you were midway through nursing school it came to light that a woman on the board of directors was a mafia plant, and she had poisoned Dimitri’s father. Edelgard probably thought it would be a good idea to silence him, just in case the kid knew anything. Seems like that was all for nothing, because obviously the story broke eventually. That was the answer you settled on anyway. Either that, or Edie was just an asshole - mob boss or not, that just didn’t sound right from what you knew about her.

Edelgard had gone underground and was in the midst of some crime family war to take over the city syndicate, which she could do to her hearts content as long as you and other innocent citizens didn’t take a bullet in the process. Long story short, you hadn’t seen her for a hot minute, nor did you care to. Meanwhile no one knew what happened to Dimitri. A lot of people just assumed he was dead, but no body was ever found. Five years is a long time to go without something like that popping up, right? You had the last known correspondence with him that the authorities were aware of. Not his Uncle, not his Godfather, not his bodyguard, not his best friends, not his favorite teacher... You. His ‘ _ kinda girlfriend.’ _ You were never anything official, you were just sweet on each other. You were the one who ended up with the ‘ **Don’t worry about me.** ’ text.

You couldn’t not worry. You tried to move on. You went to nursing school, you were doing a co-op to get hands on experience, you stayed in touch with friends. But there was no way in hell that you were going to stop worrying until you got some closure. You called his old number once in a while, but no one ever answered. You knew it always made you sad, but you did it anyway. He meant a lot to you...

Speaking of that co-op, your shift was going to start soon. The hospital always had you working grave-yard, which was fine, you were naturally a night owl, but boy it would have been nice to actually be able to go out with your friends at night, instead of comically meeting them in wee hours of the morning for pancakes at Denny's before you passed the fuck out. Just a couple more months of this, and you could officially graduate from nursing school. You could get your certification, find stable employment, and you could make a difference in the world.

You were tagging in for Mercedes, who had made and left a coffee on the reception desk for you. Ah, she was a saint. Based on the roster, you were the only one on the observation floor for the evening. Which was fine, you had two people to keep an eye on, one of which was in a medically induced coma, and the other was just a nice little old man who slept most of the time. So basically, you were going to be playing Animal Crossing on your Switch for most of the night. 10PM to 6AM. 

This was gonna be a breeze.

You left the desk to go check old Mister Aubin’s blood pressure. If things kept going well for him, he’d be able to go home to his adoptive grandson soon enough. Apparently his name was Yuri. Hm, maybe it was your old classmate. You turned the news on for him, because apparently it helped him sleep. You would check with Claude about Yuri at Denny’s in the morning, who, speaking of, was on TV.

He was more or less the department’s official spokesperson, and had been the one updating the public about the on-going developments for the war between the crime lords. He seemed to be in the midst of the press conference. “Do not misunderstand, while it might be a net positive that this individual is helping to dismantle the organized crime syndicate in the area with a startling efficiency, it does not change the fact that vigilante work is illegal. This person is a murderer.”

Oh this was spicy.

“Officer Riegan!” A reporter barked for his attention, “Was the vigilante the same individual who was involved in the shootout in the Duscur District earlier this evening?”

Oh geez, there was a gunfight over there? You made a mental note to call up Dedue in the morning to make sure he was alright.

“I don’t have all the details on that one. Rest assured, we’ll be looking over the security footage in the area to confirm or deny the claim.”

“Officer!” Another reporter called, “Is it true that the individual involved in the shootout is still missing?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” You appreciated Claude’s honesty, but you also pitied him. He wanted to route out the discrimination and corruption in the police force, but instead he was stuck dealing with the mess surrounding the crime war, “Despite assessments that they must have been hit five to six times,they got much farther than anticipated, and our officers have yet to find them.” He turned towards his superiors for a split second and nodded. It seemed he had to wrap this up quickly. “The department has opened a tip line to the general public for any leads on the syndicate's activity, and for the whereabouts of the individual in the blue parka. If anyone has seen anything, we urge you to contact this number immediately.” 

The digits appeared on screen, but Claude was already off camera, Chief Riegan taking over to close out the press conference. You bid mister Aubin goodnight, and you were going to return to the desk to shuffle around papers and pharmacy slips for an hour or two, when ER Doctor Casagranda came in and cut you off.

“Go prep a bed dear, we’ve got a young man upstairs who will be out of surgery soon.”

“Oh shit,” Tom Nook was going to have to wait! “What’s he in for?”

“It seems like he got shot a few times. He walked into the ER, as calm as can be asking for help. The poor kid running triage didn’t think it was that serious until he saw all the blood the man tracked in.”

“How and when did he get shot?” You asked.

Doctor Casagranda shrugged. She had been at this for far too long to be surprised by much of anything, “Not sure, he was under anesthetic before we got anything out of him.”

“Is it safe to put him down here?” Seriously, what if this was the guy from the press conference? What were you going to do if he snapped at you!?

“Relax (Y/N). He’s a real looker. Pretty people can’t be evil!” No one in that wing had seen the news for that day. They didn’t know about the crazy shit that had gone down.

You couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. “Doc... That’s just... factually incorrect...” 

“Oh well, whatever. Do your job, and if he gives you any trouble, run and call security. The cops will be by to question him when he wakes up.” She patted your head and left your wing just like that. Ugh, if you were lucky this potentially dangerous stranger would be asleep until your shift ended and you could finally work on decorating your island...

You set the bed as you were required, and you cleared some space out for the IV. Given that the patient had been shot a bunch, he was probably getting a blood transfusion. Another nurse had brought down his belongings. To your horror, his clothing included a blue parka, ridden with bullet holes. You were trying not to judge - lots of shit happens in this city, and also the hippocratic oath dictated that you had to care for him no matter the circumstance. You were just hoping he wasn’t the murderous vigilante himself, and was just an unfortunately dressed young man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had somehow managed to stay standing despite his wounds.

It's impolite to judge people based on their looks. But amongst his belongings was an eye patch. Why did a young man need to cover his eye? DID HE LOSE IT IN A FIGHT?! Ah, right - be calm, no judging... If they hadn’t ID-ed the guy before he came to, then that responsibility was going to fall to you. You would do well to be cordial about his looks.

When they wheeled him down to you some short time later, your heart stopped. You knew that face. Even with the jagged scar going across his right eye. Even though his hair was all shaggy. Even though he aged. You knew him. That sedated patient was your old sweetheart, Dimitri. Your Dima... You managed to stay composed until your colleagues left. After that, there wasn’t much you could do to stop the tears welling in your eyes. Like... Holy shit, that has to be Dima!

You were going to have to hold off on Animal Crossing for the night.

You stood vigil as best you could. Guarding him from who knows what. It shouldn’t have been any of your business, but what if Edelgard’s cronies came looking to avenge their friends? You did not let his identity slip to the staff, just in case one of them was a siding with the mob, or they learned that he was wanted by the police. You hadn’t seen him in years, so you couldn’t figure out why you cared but you did.

Dimitri had always been a bit... Supernatural? Aside from being unnaturally pretty, which he still absolutely was, you were also aware of his rather concerning strength. You had a hunch that he was going to stir much sooner than a normal person would. You were correct in your assumption.

You cleared your throat as he fought his eyes open, “Hi there. You’re at Saint Cethleann’s Hospital.”

His face was drawn, meaning his pain killers had already worn off. But that was the only sign that he was struggling. He already seemed to have awareness of his surroundings, just from a quick glance around the room.

“Try to stay still for a bit. You were in rough shape.” You just needed to confirm one thing from him, “Can you tell me your name?”

He kept his mouth shut, studying you up and down. You felt like he was sizing you up - like he was plotting the easiest way to gut you like a fish.

There was no suppressing your grimace. Dimitri or not, this guy was really scary, “Well. I’ll be looking after you for the rest of the night, so just let me know if you need anything. My name is-”

“(Y/N).” He shifted his gaze to the ceiling, done staring daggers through you. “I remember you.”

“... Dima?” Your voice cracked despite your wishes.

He nodded quietly.

“Holy fuck...”

“Vulgar as ever, I see.” His tone lacked much emotion, if there was any there, but you were almost certain that that was meant to be a teasing observation.

“Shu-shut the fuck up..!” You wiped at your eyes, punctuated by a sniffle, “Where’ve you been? The fuck happened to your eye?!”

“My right eye? I lost it on Burrows Street a few years ago.”

That wasn’t a particularly helpful response. “Doing what?!”

“I had a disagreement with some members of the familia. They thought they owned the neighborhood, and I was of the opposite opinion.”

All this time, he had been fighting against the Hresvelg Familia. It was a noble pursuit that much you agreed with. But the cost? His eye, your heart, his friends and family... “We looked for you... For years...”

“Ah, we’re changing the subject then.” You must have been a more interesting sight than the ceiling, because he turned his head, still strained, to look at you. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Little late for that...” You pulled up a chair so that you could sit and chat with him, not to mention give your shaking legs a break. “What are you going to do next? The cops are lookin’ for you, you know.” Why did you ask? Were you really going to try and help him? You wouldn’t need to know otherwise.

The imminent threat of the law didn’t seem to perturbe him whatsoever. If anything he sounded more bored than he had before. “Here’s how this is going to happen. I’ll be leaving before the police figure out that I’m here.” He sat himself upright, with minimal struggle, much to your shock and aw. “And you’re not going to tell them who I am. You are going to take out the IV. If they ask why you complied, you tell them I threatened you.”

He had been killing mafiosos for years now so that begged the question - “Um... Are you actually threatening me?”

“I would rather not have to.” He stretched out his arm to you. “Now, get this out and give me back my clothes.” He was referring to the cannula.

You were surprised he knew better than to just try ripping the thing out, given the usual media portrayal of the rugged badass, which he seemed to be embodying quite well, of doing just that. Still, this was uh... “That’s insane! You literally just got out of surgery, you’re still getting blood transfused!”

“Calm down. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this.” He was getting impatient, this time almost shoving his arm in your direction, “It isn’t just the police I need to keep away from. Hresvelg’s dogs might be after me as well. I don’t want you getting involved, so hurry.”

“Dimitri, what the fuck..?” This wasn’t the first time he’d been in the hospital? This wasn’t the first time he left immediately after surgery?! HE WAS GOING TO LEAVE YOU AGAIN?! “I looked for you! And now you’re just going to up and leave again!?”

“(Y/N). Take out the IV.” He couldn’t look you in the eye when he said it - still, his tone had gotten low, menacing, very impatient. He was trying to intimidate you without directly implying that he was going to break your neck.

It worked. He was reeeaaallllllyyy fucking scary looking! With shaking hands you removed the needle from his arm, procured some gauze, and you wrapped what was left.

“Please,” He frowned watching you tremble. “I-I’m not going to hurt you, you don’t have to look so frightened.”

“When did you get so damn scary looking, dude?” And when did he start killing - Could things have been different if he hadn’t disappeared, and you were able to stay by his side?

“I would say around the same time as the eye incident...”

Time hadn’t been kind to him. He lost everything... You hadn’t stopped shaking, if anything it was getting worse, your voice felt weak, “Am I ever going to see you again...?”

He blinked(??) at you a few times, confused as to why you would bother asking him such a thing, given that you seemed to be cowering from him. “For your own sake, you should not try to seek me out.”

You grabbed a pen from your scrub’s pocket, then took his hand. 

“What are you..?” He was watching you scribble something on the backside of his palm. When you were finally done he seemed surprised. “... Your number is still the same...”

“If you... If you need anything... I mostly work the nightshift, and I get breakfast with people, but I’m usually home during the day.” Uggghhhhh!!! What the hell were you doing?! This man killed people! “Just call me up...”

Now he seemed fixated on your phone number, adorning him in blue ink. Your hand had been so warm. “Thank you...”

You were finally calming down, with him speaking in quiet whispers now. “So... How are you going to make your escape?”

He thought for a moment, “I’m going to ask you to make a cup of coffee. While you're gone, I’m going to get dressed, and mess the room up enough to look like there was a struggle in here.” His fingers were drumming on the bed, “When you come back we’re going to wait a moment, and then I’m going to shove you into the hallway, and make a run for it. There are cameras out there, right?”

You nodded. “One above the reception table. It doesn’t directly point at this room, it points towards the parking lot of this wing, but you can kind of see this door.”

“I may do more than push you. We need to make it believable that your life was in danger.” The gears were still turning in his head, “I swear to you, I’m not going to hurt you, but I am going to try and startle you.”

“Oh... Okay. Your clothes are on the windowsill. I’ll go get that coffee I guess...” You stood and made your way to the door in a haze. You were really doing this, weren’t you? You were about to aid a wanted man... The wing’s kitchen was right near the doors leading to the ER wing. All you had to do to get out of this was go crying to Doctor Casagranda that there was a terrifying killer in one of the rooms and this could all cease to be your problem.

But this was Dima...

You walked into the kitchen, and you prepped one black coffee. You somewhat dreaded going back to him, since he told you that he was going to purposefully spook you. He had gotten a lot bigger since you last saw him... He had gotten stronger...

You saw him tying his eye patch back on his face before he tugged his parka’s fluffy hood over his head. You handed him the coffee. “I didn’t put any sugar in it... You can’t taste anything right?”

“I’m flattered that you remembered.” Ah, it had been too long since the two of you had bantered... He took a sip. “I should have asked for tea. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“(Y/N), it was nice to see you again.” He stood over you, looking... Forlorn? “I am sorry about this, truly.”

You were gonna make a vague attempt to tell him not to worry about it, maybe tell him that he was handsome, and that you had missed him, but that bastard fucking clotheslined you in the throat, and sent you into the hall at mach one. You bumped into the wall across from the door, only for him to pin you to it with his forearm at your neck.

“I’m very sorry...” He told you again, as you choked and writhed.

“Seein’ spots dude-!” You hacked.

“Apologies. Goodbye!” He dropped you on the floor, and his footsteps faded into the distance.

When you were able to breathe again, you crawled to the ER where your colleagues found you. The police were called, and your boy Claude showed up to get your witness statement.

You two talked about what happened at Denny’s - because that's how people your age handled shit going wrong in life. You didn’t tell him a damn thing about it being Dima, only that some crazy bastard threatened you after you so kindly made him something to drink. Officer Riegan may have seen through your lies, but the ligature mark on your neck was hard to not believe.

When you finally got home, you found a text from a hidden number waiting on your cell phone. All caps, “ **SORRY AGAIN, WILL MAKE IT UP TO YOU SOMEHOW** ”

He better!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had April by Beach Bunny on loop writing this one, and I personally think it shows in several spots. Still wilding over this being my first Modern AU request - like WOW. Thanks queenie! 
> 
> Tried to keep Dima dangerous and spooky, but not quite as edgy as he could be - like he’s weirdly polite. Kinda like how he was after Rodrigue? Like, he would rather not but he's like ugh... gotta kill people to restore peace... I couldn’t really work out how to imply the ghosts haunting him in this short span. Sorry gang?


	31. Walking in a Winter Wonderland is a Terrible Idea, and also There Isn't a lot of Walking Happening to Begin With

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request for our pal Dimitri Fan (again same) who wanted some winter based tension and fluff. It has me missing winter as it gets warmer in my part of the world. I personally prefer cold to heat. What about you?

Her Majesty was fairly beloved by her people. Despite her veteran status, she was more so known for her achievements in medicine, and public health. The citizens thought of her as a second Saint Cethleann, which was a beautiful pairing to have with her dear husband, The Savior King. Despite all her concern for the well being of her people, and her family, Queen (Y/N) seemed to have no concept of self preservation whatsoever, much to the agony of her friends and kindred.

This trip had been no exception. When Her Majesty had noticed one of her daughter’s handmaidens shivering, having not brought her quilted petticoat to keep her warm on the journey, the queen took her own fur cloak from her shoulders and fastened it around the young woman. The Queen gave the maiden a pat on the head, before sauntering off to check in on her children, who were surveying the road from a nearby hill.

“How’s the weather up there?” She quipped to her eldest, who was now about as tall as his father was.

The Crown Prince squinted into the distance, his expression slightly troubled. “If we hurry we should be able to beat the next storm, but I can’t tell if the roads were properly cleared from the one from a few days ago...” The sweet boy... It was days away but he didn’t want to be late for the wedding!

Her sweet little Sunset Lady looked at her with wide-eyes, “Mother! Where is your cloak?! It’s freezing!”

Her Majesty laughed, “Sweetheart, I’ve lived up north my entire life. Trust me I’m fine.”

Her youngest wasn’t going to let her get away with this either, “That’s ridiculous and you know it! What did you do with your cloak?”

“I lent it to someone who needs it more than I do.” Queen (Y/N) waved her children’s concerns away. “I have a few blankets in my carriage, don’t you worry.”

El and Aria elbowed their older brother to get him to turn around, “Wha- Oh! Mother!” Lambert was bewildered. His mother was in a heavy white riding habit, but without her cloak, trudging up here in the snow was simply madness.

“You three are just precious...” The Queen’s heart was warmed over her children’s concern. “We should have a snowball fight later!”

“Aren’t we a bit old for that kind of thing?” Aria asked.

Her Majesty’s face fell, “Who the **hell** told you that you were too old for snowball fights?”

The royal children clammed up. They weren’t snitches. Alas, their mother knew damn well what that meant.

“It was your old man, wasn’t it?!” The Queen turned on her heels and stormed back down the snowy hill, not losing her footing for even a second, “Dimitri!” She yelled.

“Yes, my beloved?” His Majesty stepped away from his conversation with Lord Fraldarius, he answered his wife with a smile on his face, “Oh, where has your cloak gone?”

“Don’t worry about it- Did you tell the kids they’re too old for a snowball fight?!”

“At some point, I believe so?” He actually had to think about it. “They are, aren’t they?”

“Honey- What?!” (Y/N) blinked, her jaw dropping, “Having fun doesn’t have an age limit, you goober!”

_ Goober? _ That was a new one... His wife took his face in her hands. They were both into their forties now, but she was still youthful at heart. One of the happiest, and brightest lights in his life.

“Your Majesty, I hereby challenge you to a snowball fight to further prove my point,” She gave his face a bit of squish, “If you decline it would besmirch your honor.”

“Well, I can’t have that, now can I?” His smile grew even wider, even as his old friend Felix rolled his eyes into oblivion. “Should it please my dearest, I will accept this challenge.” He gave her a gentle peck on the cheek, “But it will have to wait until we get to the monastery.”

Queen (Y/N) could accept that.

The Royal Family was arranged to travel in phases, just as a precaution to avoid trouble, and to potentially spread out whatever riffraff would dare do them harm. The King and his dear Aria left first with their usual guards, followed closely by Captain Dedue, with Princess El, who was in the carriage keeping Lady Mercedes company. Prince Lambert was in one of the Fraldarius carriages, so he could spend the remaining journey with his beloved Minnie - His auburn haired, amber eyed, betrothed, Minerva Fraldarius. They had been friends since they were children, and yet he could hardly ever look at her without blushing furiously. This was a part of coaching him out of such behavior.

Her Majesty and her entourage were the last in the order. Should something go wrong, the Gautier envoy would be following the same trail later in the day, weather permitting, so help would arrive need be.

And the Need would indeed Be.

Queen (Y/N) had intended to spend at least a small bit of this trip napping, because the snow made the scenery very similar. Pretty, but tragically repetitive. She simply asked her maids to wake her if they passed any civilians, so she could at least wave, and maybe stop and chat. Her nap was oh so rudely interrupted, not by her staff, but by the whining of her carriages horses, and the confused voice of the driver. What really snapped her out of her sleepy daze, was the sound of an explosion.

“What is the meaning of this?!” The Queen leapt out from her carriage, her boots crunching into the snow, and from under the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she drew her rapier to guard. Her eyes darted around the landscape, landing on four figures, none of which she recognized. “Oh goodie, it's some Twisties...”

She had gotten that name from Lady Hapi. That was what she had dubbed the remnants of Those Who Slither in the Dark. After that creature masquerading as the late Lord Arundel was killed in Derdriu, the organization had collapsed for the most part. But there were still smatterings of sinister folk who were out for blood of those responsible. These such individuals were not amused by Her Majesty’s pet name for them. One of them was so frustrated that the grey individual ceased harassing the coachman, who was threatened by the explosion, and chose to rush The Queen instead.

All the better, keep them away from her innocent staff. The Queen was the only formal combatant among them. She had deliberately made herself the easiest target for these types of situations, not that she’d ever admit it. The guards were watching over the children by her own orders... The Agarthans, having hidden underground for so long were not as adept at moving through the snow as Her Majesty was. She was able to easily sidestep the assailant, slashing at his heel, grounding him as he collapsed into the snow. For good measure, she cast thunder to shock him unconscious. Evil organization or not, she was adamant about not killing anyone. She could leave that to Sylvain and Ingrid, who would be catching up to her, at this rate.

That man must have been their leader, because once he was down, the remaining three Twisties looked more than rattled at the situation.

“Now then, ladies,” The Queen hollered back to her maids in the carriage, “This is the kind of thing that you can get too old for.” She handed her rapier to her carriage driver, Marceau so that he could lend a hand. She then charged forward, refusing to let the attackers get it together enough to harm her staff. Like hell she’d let that come to pass. The first Agarthan was graced by Her Majesty’s fist slamming into their jaw, sending them into the snow. The next one was immediately hit with thunder.

Marceau, who had at least seen someone hold a sword before joined the fray with a yell, swinging wildly at the remaining Twisty. This provided a much needed distraction for the Queen to actually damage the man with her chosen super-taser-technique.

Fuck yeah, Marceau! She gave her servant a thumbs up, “Fantastic work my good man!”

The smile did not get the chance to rise to the driver’s face, instead it was horror, “Your Majesty- Behind you!”

The Queen cast thunder at the Agarthan she had knocked into the snow.  _ Damn it all! _ She had forgotten to do that to this one! “Son of a bi-!” Her spell landed, but at the same time she was struck by their return fire. The sagittae hit the woman square in the chest, sending her flying through the air, off the road, and down the bank.

Her servants heard a splash of some sort. There was a pond off the road that had not been fully frozen over. As they rushed in that direction they came to a horrifying realization - none of them had seen where their lady had landed - worse yet, she was wearing white, meaning she would not show up well against the snow.

King Dimitri stood in the Monastery entry hall, pacing back and forth. His expression was neutral, but the speed of his stride implied his anxiousness. He saw the concerned gaze of his children on his next lap. They waited on the stairs, downcast. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon...” It was meant to reassure them, but it was much more something he was telling himself. His Queen had not arrived on schedule, nor had any of her servants. There was no message, no travelers and pilgrims claiming to have spotted her entourage on the way. The lack of news of his precious (Y/N) made his teeth itch.

Just a few moments later, before The King could wear his footprints into the stonework, The Margrave and Margravine Gautier burst into the entrance hall. Hanging off their shoulders was Her Majesty, unconscious. She seemed to be curled in an almost comical number of blankets, or whatever they could find to cover her. Her hair was damp, frozen in some places.

Before he realized what he did, the King had torn his beloved wife from his friend’s grasp, cradling her to his chest on the ground. He looked down at her in rapt horror. Her lips were blue. And she was still. Frighteningly still. She was supposed to be bubbly and smiling and warm- Goddess above, she felt so cold.

“What the  **fuck** happened?!” The Crown Prince asked what everyone was thinking, though less elegantly than he probably should have. The room tolerated his shock, given that his mother looked far too corpse-like for their taste.

Ingrid was already sprinting off to urge assistance forward, “We need the Archbishop!”

That left Sylvain to relay the series of events over the sobbing chorus of Her Majesty’s terrified staff. “From what we heard, she squared up against four assassins, but the last one launched her into some water. She was in it until we came by...”

No wonder she felt so lifeless. She was suffering from severe hypothermia. “(Y/N)..?” He shook her gently. If she just woke up, she could tell him how to treat her, and then everything would be fine, “My love, please...” Everything would be fine if she just opened her eyes.

Aria took him by the shoulder, “Father, The Archbishop needs to take Mother. Let go of her.”

His dear daughter’s words fell on deaf ears. The only thing he was aware of was his poor wife, barely breathing in his arms. He curled his queen against him closer. That was what he was supposed to do, right? He needed to keep her warm, and then she would wake up... Right?

Lambert frowned as sister looked at him with a ‘What the fuck do I do?!’ expression on her face. “Father, listen to Aria, please.” He took his father’s other arm and gave it a gentle tug. His father did not yield at all, so he pulled a bit harder.  _ Holy shit... _ Is this how other people felt when they tried to get him to move?! This was going to be a group effort then... “El, help out Aria. Your Grace, please get ready grab my mother...”

Byleth, who was getting really good with his expressions at this point, frowned. He crouched before the king as his children struggled to pry his vice grip off of their mom. “Dimitri,” He called gently. “Let her go please.”

At the call of his old mentor, His Majesty seemed to snap out of whatever haze he was in. His grip faltered, sending the children stumbling a bit, but otherwise unscathed. He still looked lost as the Archbishop pulled his precious bride from him, and deeper into the monastery.

The Royal Children came to a conclusion that they would dare not speak, not even among each other. If something bad were to happen to their father, and they lost him, their mother would be absolutely heartbroken, but she would be able to move on. She would be able to go on living. That was just the type of person she was. But if the situation were reversed, then their father would have died of grief. He had always been terribly sensitive to the departed, but the thought of his sweet little wife being among their ranks would have been more than enough to destroy him. Lambert pulled his father off the floor, and watched him follow Byleth in a dazed state. That man had lost far too much in his life. He couldn’t lose her too.

Her Majesty’s eyes fought their way open several hours later, and the first thing she saw, vigil at her bedside was - “Toasty Husband... C’mere.”

He was shocked, hearing her speak so soon given her state, but he practically threw himself at her. He was surprised to hear a pleased sigh escape her as she nestled herself into him. Even through the blankets she was under, she still felt chilled.

“Now I know you’re worried,” She murmured into his chest, taking in every bit of body heat he had to offer, “But it’s fine, because I totally won that fight...”

If her condition was what she classified as a victory, he would hate to see the opposition. He could not believe that she had chuckled as she spoke, while he was on the verge of tears. The mere thought of losing her... Her arms curled around him, running her fingers up and down his back. She was trying to calm him down.

“I’m alright, Dimitri...” She told him softly. “We might have to put off that snowball fight for a bit, but we’ll get to it...” Yes, soon enough. She had challenged his honor for it, afterall.

“My Beloved...” He was struggling to articulate how relieved he was, how afraid he had been. “I thought...”

“You thought you lost me?” She pulled away from him so he could see her pouting up at him. “I would never leave you like that.” She cradled his face in her freezing fingers, “My Dima...”

He closed his eye, letting her pinch his cheeks, and play with his hair. “The children were worried...”

“Is that right?” She turned her head toward the door, “Alright you three, get in here.”

The Royal Children peered in through the doorway, before losing all sense of politeness to rush their mother.

She smiled despite being under a dog pile. Her family was warm...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of fluff is good in times like these. I hope you folks are staying well out there. If you've been out to protests, make sure you take precautions to ensure you aren't spreading Covid to the others, don't go if you have a cough, quarantine if you suspect you were exposed. Stay safe, stay smart. Black Lives Matter.
> 
> Love you all dearly, be safe.


	32. The Proposition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from our still interestingly titled pal, Anime_hotty_lover_24. Our dear man is aware of how direct he can be from time to time, and so he seeks advice from his oldest of homies for one of the more important questions he will ask in his life.

Despite his known flowery speech pattern, Prince Dimitri was also known for being about as blunt as they come. Due to his sheltered upbringing, he was deft at reading cues in the political ring, but was completely illiterate when it came to a more social setting. He was hardly ever out to offend anyone, but on occasion he may. He was aware of this flaw in his verbal skills, and had been making recent strides rectifying the situation. In trying to be less uptight, and a little bit more approachable - er - a lot a bit more approachable, given the improving circumstances of his mental state, he was working on how he interacted with others. He was doing his best to be more open. Still, there was one thing in particular that he wanted to broach the subject of with a certain young lady, but he knew he was woefully unprepared to do so.

He needed to call in the cavalry if he was going to get this right.

So now he was sitting on the floor of Sylvain’s room, regretting this specific choice of cavalry. “Alright, Your Highness. Are you ready for a good old floor talk?”

Despite being something they would do as children, sitting down on the floor of a bedroom seemed absurd in the present. They were both still wearing their full armor. “I suppose...” He replied, feeling ridiculous. The last time he was in this room, he threw himself out the window while Sylvain distracted...

“So, explain this to me again. You gave (Y/N) a dagger?”

“That is correct.”

What one less refined would refer to as a ‘shit-eating-grin’ began to form on the heir of Gautier’s face. “Would you be kind enough to tell me why..?”

It took all of the prince’s will power to not gnaw on the inside of his cheek. This entire situation may as well have been Sylvain’s fault, and yet he couldn’t blame the other man. He was the one who listened to him, afterall. “I believed that flowers would have been too predictable.” And it was a practical defensive weapon so she could protect herself with. And she liked knives. It was a good idea, his execution was just a bit off!

“Uh-huh.” Sylvain nodded sagely, but his smirk had not faltered. If anything it was growing, “Aren’t you lucky that she’s quirky enough to consider a dagger an acceptable token of affection?”

“Could we  _ please _ forget about the dagger?” He sighed, thoroughly exasperated. This entire conversation so far had just been his friend making fun of him...

“Alright, alright.” At least the redhead seemed thoroughly amused. “What brings you to my floor on this fine afternoon?”

“I...” He needed to choose his next words extremely carefully, or Sylvain would spend this conversation smarming relentlessly. “I care _ very deeply _ for (Y/N)...”

“You don’t say?”

He had to take a deep breath, which must have been so over the top it quieted his old friend. “I would- I would like to-” His words kept getting caught in his throat, years of tutelage in public speaking him seeming to abandon him. Sylvain was nodding, urging him on, practically shaking with excitement. “Iwouldliketoproposetoher!” He gasped immediately after, the air finally returning to his lungs. It was like a bandage, he just had to tear it off quickly, just get it over with.

“Yes!” The red head was slapping at the floor. He had waited five years for this confession, “You admit it!”

“Yes...” The Prince felt a lot better, having said it. “The trouble is... I haven’t the faintest idea how to go about such a thing.” Years of political education had dictated that a strategic marriage could be arranged by a simple letter. What well standing noble house would not have leapt at the chance to marry into the royal family? However this was not a political move. This was based purely on his affection for her. It should have been more than a cold and calculating letter. The Lady deserved more than that.

“Oh, you’re coming to me for advice on this big of a commitment... I am confused but honored, Your Highness...” Sylvain looked rather puzzled. Not only was this an odd choice given his track record, but the answer was also rather obvious. “You could just... Ask her, you know?”

Dimitri blinked- er, winked. “Isn’t that too simple?”

“It would make more sense though. You’re a very direct person most of the time.”

“That is- Well, that isn’t untrue...” The Prince crossed his arms. (Y/N), his beloved (Y/N), didn’t she deserve something with more thought? Something with more pomp? Or at least something less boring than running up to her and popping the question! Maybe he needed a second opinion... “This has been very... enlightening, Sylvain. Thank you.” He got off the floor, and he aimlessly walked down the hallway.

He was bouncing ideas around in his mind. Obviously some sort of gesture had to be made for this to progress the way he would have liked. Perhaps he could take the ring he had been carrying around for days, and he could put it in a pastry and give that to her. That sounded like a cute idea until he recalled how much she enjoyed sweets - she could have accidentally swallowed the metal, which would have really killed the romance of the plan. He also wasn’t ready to try to figure out what kind of sweet he could get her. He wouldn’t be able to sample them by taste to decide on the appropriate one for her. He was so lost in thought that he almost walked into the pond. 

Just before he could, someone snatched the back of his cloak, yanking him backwards. This person did not tell him to watch where he was going, they only growled at him.

The Prince snapped to attention, his close call realized, “Ah! Thank you Felix, that could have ended poorly for me...” He turned around to fully address his childhood friend.

“Dimitri..!” Though he scowled, the heir of Fraldarius had used the prince’s name rather than the disdainful moniker of ‘Boar.’ It was a habit he had picked back up recently. “What is wrong with you?”

For the other man’s peace of mind, he stepped away from the edge of the water. “I apologize, I was lost in thought.”

“What could you possibly be thinking about that intensely?”

Actually, (Y/N) had been in the service of House Fraldarius all this time. Maybe Felix had some insight he could offer! Ah, but this meant coughing out his explanation again. “I am... Considering the best way to-” He just had to spit it out- “Proposeto(Y/N)!”

It took Felix a moment to process what was just said to him, but he finally scoffed. “Ugh. Is that really what has you so distracted?”

“I believe it is important enough to have such concern behind it.”

“You damn fool. Just ask her.”

Dimitri frowned, making him reminiscent of a sad puppy. “Shouldn’t there be something more to it though?”

Amber eyes squinted into a glare. “Why the hell are you asking me?”

“Well, do you have any ideas?”

“No!” Felix looked at him incredulously, “Just ask her, she doesn’t care for fanfare, you know that!”

With the way the other man was looking at him, he could tell neither of them actually wanted to be having this conversation with the other. “I will take that into consideration, thank you.”

With a sigh, Felix gave him a single encouraging pat on the shoulder, a shred of sympathy, “Good luck.” And then he left Dimitri to get back to his intense contemplation.

Another idea he had been mulling over was some kind of scavenger hunt, and at the end of it, he would leave the ring for her. He could leave her little hints leading her to the greenhouse, and the training ground, although the idea fell flat when he considered putting something in the library. Having finished her research, she was quite done with combing through books for a while. He also wasn’t sure if he could compose worthy limericks or poems serving as hints for her to follow. And if someone else found the ring before she did he might die. His contemplative stroll led him to the bridge of the cathedral.

“Your Highness!” A voice called after him, footsteps in a light jog coming to his side.

“Ingrid, hello.” He greeted her with a smile. Another old friend he could turn to for advice.

“Are you doing alright?” She asked with an edge of concern.

The question surprised him. This wasn’t a typical greeting from someone as straight-laced as Ingrid. “I am well. Is something the matter?”

She let out a huff of a laugh, “I’ve had quite a few people inform me that you’ve been walking into doorways and some such today. Either you’re falling ill, or you are terribly distracted, knowing you...”

“I assure you, it is the latter. I’m fine, I’ve just been doing quite a bit of thinking.”

“About what, if I may ask?”

Out of all of his childhood friends, Ingrid may not have been the best person to ask for advice in this regard for... She didn’t exactly care much for hyper traditional femininity, nor did she have to. Not to mention marriage prospects were a sore subject to her at the best of times. Still, she was less abrasive than Felix, and probably wouldn’t have teased him relentlessly like Sylvain. Maybe that made it easier to explain himself to her. “I intend to... I am planning to propose to (Y/N), but as to how I am to do so eludes me.”

She cocked her head, thinking, and hardly offended by the subject. “I mean... You could just ask her.”

“You are the third person to say that to me today.” He stared up at the cathedral. If he were to wed her, should he survive to the end of this war, this is where it would happen. This is where she would be coronated. It was still partially collapsed. That wouldn’t do... She deserved something grandiose! “Is something so simplistic truly the best course of action?”

“The suggestion might have some merit, if that many people have repeated it, Your Highness.”

But it was so bland... It was so straight forward. It was predictable, coming from him. Wouldn’t it have been better to do something different? To do something she could recount fondly to others? Something unexpected!

“If you want to do something special, how about you take her out on a horseback ride? Make an occasion out of it!”

Oh. Oh, that would be perfect. Yes... Yes! Absolutely perfect! Just outside the monastery, there was a meadow - with beautiful golden grass as far as the eye could see. It would be such a lovely sight - not a fraction as lovely as his beloved, but it would still be a wonderful place to bring her! It would be quiet, and they could speak to each other freely and- He clasped Ingrid’s hands in his own. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” He turned and he sprinted back toward the greenhouse. His sweet (Y/N) would be there around now, wouldn’t she? Oh! But he needed to prep a horse in the stables first!

The lady knight smiled as her old friend ran off. She hadn’t seen him this energetic in quite some time. If (Y/N) accepted his proposal, she could leave him in the other woman’s care, and then the only fools she would have to worry over constantly would be Sylvain and Felix!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys ever have floor talks with your homies? I have floor talks with my homies - but not during global pandemics. I miss having in-person floor talks with my homies. But I will be able to have them again someday.


	33. Introvert VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kei has called upon me once more. Hark! Let us watch two socially inept dorks, one of which is exhausted by being around others, and the other has spent five years pushing people away and overall being genuinely unapproachable, try to interact with each other!

So... You were out cold for three, creeping a bit uncomfortably close to four days. Laying in bed, and looking positively ghastly because you really fucking overdid it this time, buster. People were pretty concerned from that alone, but they were especially horrified when they saw the methods you had used to patch up your leg wounds. Your own hand-print had been burned over the gap in the muscle tissue. They were able to patch it all with magic, but that scar wasn’t going to fade any time soon. Walking on it was guaranteed to be sore for a hot minute as well. Get it? ‘Hot minute,’ It’s funny because you cauterized it!

Many people came to visit you, waiting for updates and predictions on when you would open your eyes. Quiet as you could be in most situations, you were still a loyal, and dear friend to many prominent people in the Kingdom Resistance. They desperately wanted you to be well once more. As the days crept by there was an awful possibility that ‘when,’ may have been an ‘if,’ The person vigil by your side the most often came as a surprise to just about everyone. As soon as his ribs were properly tended to, The Boar Prince waited by your bed day and night. He hardly ever said a word, just watching and waiting.

It wasn’t so different from being in the cathedral. He could tune out the other occupants of the room just as easily. He sat still, and he ruminated on all the mistakes he had made, and all the blood on his hands, and all the lost souls he was failing to avenge, and all the innocent people who were getting hurt because of him. You were included in that. If for just a fraction of a second he had listened to the Professor, you would not be in such a pitiful state. There came a moment where his resolve faltered, and he could not bear to stare at you knowing that this was his fault. His gaze drifted down to his hands instead.

Your Prayer Ring was still on his pinky finger. What he wouldn’t give to have you clutching his hand to make sure it stayed there, while you chattered on and on about where you grew up, and your little hideaways you used to avoid company. How had he repaid all the subtle and gentle kindness you had offered him? He had led you to believe that you, and everyone in the monastery were a means to his own ends. You and your damned soft heart had just accepted such a wretched lot from him. You nearly died for him. He did his best to take the ring off carefully, trying not to accidentally crush it. Then he took your limp hand, and with extreme caution, he placed it back on your ring finger. You needed it much more than he did at the moment, not to mention something so elegant was better suited to you.

You stirred just shy of the ninety-six hour mark since you had succumbed to your fatigue. You recognized His Highness staring back at you. You were unable to tell if he was shaking, or if your sight was just that blurry. “... Dimitri..?”

“Yes.” Yes, yes, he was here. He was right here. He took your hand in his, squeezing it just like he had when you had gone on and on about all the things you missed about home. First he would offer the dead the emperor’s head, but after that he would take you back to Itha himself. The damned could finally rest and peace, and then his mind would be quiet again. He could walk with you hand in hand, just like you used to do. He wanted nothing more than to bring you into his embrace. There were too many times as of late where he had failed to comfort you in such a manner. But he restrained himself, painfully aware of your fragile state, and the abuse the dead would charge him with if he did.

He was looking better, which was such a relief that despite your exhaustion, you smiled up at him. But, being unconscious for that long had left you very weak, and very dazed. Not to mention, “... I’m hungry.”

News of your near-miraculous awakening had spread through your social circle very quickly, and before long, all the Blue Lions, Professor included, had crammed themselves into the infirmary all at once, just to see their favorite medic well and alert again. The Prince did not want to be there anymore. These were allies, and they were once his friends, but that was precisely why he should not have been there. Attachment to them was a weakness. Their concern for his mental state was a weakness. Thinking about you and them was a weakness. And yet he did not move, as you had started to clutch his hand. He gathered all this sudden interaction was making you anxious. They were all too happy to see you for him to be able to growl them away.

“Guys please,” You did not appear outwardly unhappy to see them. It was nice to know that everyone was alright, but all this attention was making you blush. “I’m fine...” You were trying to nestle further into the sheets just to hide your face. Your old pals were having none of that. You could hide your expression, but you could not hide from their love! Their eyes and their compliments, and their worry for you had elicited a nervous giggle, that turned into a full on laugh, “I’m promise I’m okay!”

It echoed in The Prince’s mind. It was... Cute. But even more than that, it made his heart ache. Not once, even in the time when you were alone together had he... “I haven’t heard you laugh in five years...” He lamented under his breath. That was his fault in part, no doubt. His actions had hardly contributed to giving you something to smile over. When was the last time..? Was it really his place to try to get you to do that again?

“... Is it really noticeable enough to comment on..?” Given how quiet he had said it, you figured he hadn’t meant for you to hear that. Nonetheless you quickly got further embarrassed by that observation. You tugged your blankets up further, yanking them over your head. “I don’t want that attention... I’ll never laugh again!”

The next few days were spent under constant supervision, thus that meant more social interaction. Given your track record, you were not trusted to rest if you were left to your own devices. Which was total bullshit, because if presented the opportunity to stay, you would never have left bed to begin with! Much like when you were bed ridden, there was a concerted effort on your part to put on a happy face, but internally you were  **dying** . Well, not  **dying** , but the burn out was getting pretty rough to be perfectly honest. Sylvain’s incessant flirting while you tried to get some work done (Which was made all the worse because you hated comments on your appearance,) Mercedes and Annie cramming food down your throat, Ingrid and Ashe trying to get you to actually talk to people, and Felix being, well, Felix, were just a few of the overbearing scenarios you did not have the energy to deal with. You just kept a fake smile plastered on your face. You were honored and all that people were jumping to keep you company, but some alone time would have been just dandy. Is that why His Highness just glared at everyone? To get some solitude? Ugh, if you weren’t an absolute marshmallow maybe it would have been worth a shot to try for yourself.

Felix may have been the lesser of all these evils. Almost entirely because he was the least likely to make drawn out conversation. That didn’t stop him from the occasional snide remark. “I don’t understand how you can sit through this.” Or, “This is unbearably dull,” Occasionally, “I would rather get my blade arm sawed off with a rusty butter knife than do *insert activity here*.” Real helpful, Fe. Real helpful... Literally, all you were doing was picking out books to comb for research. Leave it to the jock goth to be bored by the gentler things in life... “Why has The Boar been following you anyway?” He asked you one afternoon.

“Huh?” You looked up from your book. Today the lordling was supposed to make sure a migraine didn’t flair up while you read. “Why’s who what?”

“That creature trails after you like a lost dog.” He practically spat, glaring over your shoulder.

“Is he at the door now..?”

“Unfortunately.”

You felt your face heating up at the mere thought. You turned back, and sure enough, His Highness was lurking in the doorway, a scowl very obvious on his face. Against your better judgement, and most instincts, you offered him a small wave.

He seemed to jolt with that, and he retreated out of sight. What the fuck was that all about? Was he actually worried for you after all..? He had seemed capable of showing you some concern before.

Felix scoffed, “I don’t understand how you can tolerate him.”

As he stormed down the hallway in a poorly managed fit of rage, Dimitri came to the conclusion that he was the biggest damn fool on the entire Goddess forsaken continent. He didn’t understand what had been driving him to keep his eye on you either! Not until this very moment. To see your face flush in the direction of any other person had spiked the fury in him he struggled so much to contain off the battlefield. He could barely get you to speak, and someone as cold as Felix could make you blush?!

He wanted to hear you laugh again. He wanted to see you smile at him like you used to. But he knew all too well that he likely wouldn’t be able to. Nevermind the fact that the atmosphere around him was physically cold and naturally depressing, it was what was in his mind that would stand in his way. He could not stand against those in his mind who begged him for vengeance. Playing knight to a weak, timid woman only served to impede his resolve, no matter how useful she was to him. He had defied them for her before, just so she could sleep, and it had left him in a state that he did not properly handle until she nearly killed herself trying to keep him alive.

If he could only see her happy, just once more, then maybe that could be the end of it.

You and His Highness did technically share the same room, though you were rarely in it at the same time. He spent most evenings patrolling the monastery, meanwhile your sleep schedule was entirely dictated by how many injured people in the infirmary there were. There was only a small window for overlap. So, imagine the minor heart attack you had when, mid kicking off your shoes and going to unbutton your shirt, you realized there was another person in the room with you. “Eep!”

There he was, sitting down at his desk, his arms folded as his dead expression bore holes through you. He said nothing, but surely he was displeased by your less than composed reaction to his presence.

You did your best to settle down quickly at the risk of offending the profoundly terrifying man. “Um, good evening, Your Highness.”

“Dimitri.” He corrected you. “You have had leave to call me by name for a long time, yet you only do so occasionally.” 

“Y-yeah?” You quickly re-buttoned the top of your blouse, “Force of habit... I apologize, Your H- Dimitri.” Nice save, champ.

Without missing a beat he ordered you to “Sit down.”

Since he was taking up the only actual chair in the room, you perched yourself on the edge of the bed. You were visibly stiff and uncomfortable, because you were nearly convinced that he was here because you had upset him somehow. And when he got upset, bodies hit the floor. You were racking your brain in a panic, trying to figure out when, where, and how you had fucked up recently so you could apologize and avoid your untimely demise.

“(Y/N)...” He addressed you quietly, seeming to recognize your rising fear. Normally he reveled in the terror he caused. Not yours though... Definitely not yours... His only goal at the moment was to speak to you, just to see you smile at the least. “How are you feeling?”

You blinked. That was an extremely mundane question. “I’m doing alright. How are you..?”

“I’m still alive.”

_ Big Mood. _ “That’s good.” Oh, Goddess you couldn’t have sounded more stilted if you had tried.

“How is your research going?”

Ugh, what was with this bland interrogation?! You just wanted to go to sleep! “It’s... Progressing. I still have lots to sift through...” What was he going to ask you about next - the weather? Why was he asking you so much stuff anyway? Talk about out of character...

The replies you were giving him were short. You didn’t enjoy this line of questioning , so he probably should shift the subject. “Your leg...” He started, but as the words left his mouth he faltered. That injury was his fault. All his fault. You could have been killed and it would have been all his fault-

“Oh?” You kicked your foot out a bit, looking down. “It hasn’t been hurting as much lately, but I still need to be careful with how much I walk...” You kept your lips tight, trying to suppress a grin. If you looked at him, he could see you blushing. He did care enough to ask! But you didn’t want to trouble anyone over it any further than you already had, “It’s nothing to worry about, really..!”

The mere thought of you being among the dead that clung to him, controlled him, that he became less than human for, shook him to the core. It wasn’t ‘nothing,’ You could have bled out and died because of him! You would have become just like his father, and Glenn and Dedue- Begging him for closure and rest, crying out to him without end. He didn’t want to bear the thought. He wanted to see you happy.

Given that this entire interaction had you on edge, you were acutely aware of the shift in his breathing. It was getting longer, but heavier. You would do that too, on occasion, if you got too anxious in a crowded place. “So, yeah, I’m fine. H-how’s your chest?”

It had healed completely, at the cost of your near death. It was in perfect condition now, and yet, “It hurts.”

“It..?” To be fair, his sternum had been caved in until very recently, but he had seen extensive magic treatment for it. Everything should have been fine! You waved him over to you, “Please, let me see what I can do.”

You had frowned at him now. He hadn’t meant to admit any vulnerability, and now this conversation had gone in the opposite direction from what he wanted. And how dare he want for anything, as he sulked for the attention of some girl instead of avenging the fallen. He couldn’t do a single thing correctly, could he? Still he crossed the floor, kneeling before you.

Any embarrassment you would normally feel was cast aside as your professional persona took over. He allowed you to lay your healing hands upon him, and in the meantime you made the momentous decision to keep this awkward conversation going. “Aside from the chest pain, are you well?”  _ You’re acting super weird! Why are you being so fucking weird?! _ Following you around, backing you into talking like this. What gives?!

Like he did often enough when people tried to speak to him outside of a battle relevant context, he did not answer. He stayed quiet and still until your hand brushed over his heart when without the same calculation he chose for his response, he took you by the wrist and held you there.

His heart thumped away beneath your palm and you were at a loss for what this was supposed to mean. Your best bet was ‘Heartache’ was the issue here, but you weren’t sure he was in the state of mind to create such a poetic way of explaining that to you. You also couldn’t seem to move your hand any further due to his grip. “... Dimitri?”

“I...” His fingers twitched a bit around your hand, “When the Professor ordered the retreat, I should have listened...”

Now either you were losing your hearing, or this man had just admitted that he had made a mistake! Hell, it sounded like the words ‘I’m sorry,’ were on the tip of his tongue too! “Well, yes. Yes, you should have.” Ah, you hoped he didn’t find your blunt statement rude.

“If I had, you would not have been injured...”

“Oh!” Now you understood what all this strangeness was. “Is that what this is about?” You finally let that smile you had been hiding grace your lips, “Don’t be so silly, I told you I’m fine.”

His eye widened as he looked up at you. There was the soft grin he had been looking for. His heart may have skipped a beat, but you could not feel it, as he had brought your hand from his chest to his lips.

The nervous giggle had welled up from your chest as you realized he was kissing the back of your palm.

It was like music to his ears, but he should not indulge too much. Plus you had started to cover your face with your free hand, meaning you were getting embarrassed. He released you and made his way to the door. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for requesting, Kei. I always have fun with these absolute disaster dorks. Believe it or not gang, I've got no requests in progress right now! Isn't that wacky? Now, I'll still try to have something together to buffer for next week in case someone requests something. I write over the course of the week. Don't want to rush anything now, right?
> 
> Well, you know the deal, if you want something, just ask ^_^ and maybe it'll be a thing in two weeks time~!
> 
> I hope you guys are all staying safe out there! Much love <3


	34. Timewarp II: Back to the Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title: Lambert Puts Up With So Much Shit And Wants To Go Home.   
> Sometimes you reread some of your pieces and you realize you leave yourself some threads that you can work with to make a continuation that no one fuckin asked for. This is hella the result of some unused concepts from the first timewarp that I did not include solely because they would have fit much better in a post time skip setting, which is what this is, and the fact that the lockdowns give me a lot of time to kill, and I feel like writing is a better use of my time than staring at my ceiling. So without further adieu, let’s do the timewarp again!

“Hey, Sylvain?” You called, unlatching another strap on the horse's armour. It was time to have a heart to heart, since it was just the two of you.

He huffed, “Y-Yeah?” Ailell had been a rough time for most of the Faerghus natives. It was awesome to see Rodrigue again, but  **fuck** , they don’t call that place the Valley of Torment for nothing. He was more focused on ditching his own layers, more than the poor animal’s, just to cool off even slightly.

“His Highness wanted to know if you’re alright.” You lifted the saddle off the horse.

He paused mid pulling his mail over his head. “He asked about me?” That didn’t sound like the present disposition of Prince Dimitri that he had been observing. Unsympathetic, harsh, and irritated, to name a few interactions.

“Yes. He asked me to make sure that your arm was tended to properly.” The Prince had witnessed an arrow slipping through a crack in Sylvain’s armour while they were squaring off against Lord Gwendel. He had pulled you aside once the troop transfer had occurred, expressing his concern as indifferently as he could. He had tried and failed to hide a worried scrunch on his face. “So, are you feeling okay?”

He finally yanked his mail over his head so he could blink away his surprise without being seen. “Oh, absolutely. Mercedes fixed my shoulder right up.” He shot you a beaming, toothy grin when he finally re-emerged. The smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s good to hear. I’ll be sure to let His Highness know.” Finally the horse was free of all the metal and leather covering it. A stable boy came towards you and ushered it away. “Ah, Sylvain, before I forget...”

“What is it?”

“I’m really proud of you.” You told him, giving him a pat on the back.

The heir of Gautier was shocked into another pause. That... That was seldom a sequence of words he heard directed towards him. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, but eventually decided on, “Huh...”

“Don’t act so shocked, I really think you’ve grown as a person these past few years.” You weren’t bullshiting either. That disciplinary record you had on him from years prior was barely recognizable to his present behavior, “You’re taking this fight seriously, you’ve been working harder, and I’ve noticed you’ve cut down on your flirting. I’m proud of you.”

The redhead felt like his eyes were stinging a little bit. Was his chest getting a bit tight? This was pretty weird. He wanted out. “Well, I mean... Thank you, (Y/N). That means a lot.” With that, he did an impressive speed walk away. Possibly breaking a land speed record in the process. 

Yawning from your exhaustion, you decided to go report to the prince as soon as you could, but first you had to go assist in the infirmary. After that, a nap would definitely be in order!

A few hours later at the Knights Hall, Gilbert was met with a flash of light. He was on guard immediately. Age had yet to dull the old knight’s senses. When his vision returned, his stance stayed grounded, though the sight had certainly thrown him off mentally. In fact, his knees felt weak at what he saw.

“Sir Gustave?” The young man called to him. The clothing the boy wore was less fluffy and soft than what the knight was used to seeing him in. The suit was more formal and soldierly, but otherwise there was little difference elsewhere. The soft blond hair going to his shoulders, the well mannered stature, and the boyish voice.

“... Your Highness..?” His voice felt small. He hadn’t had this feeling since he carried that boy away from the carnage that was The Tragedy. The shock, and the worry. He hardly even noticed the little girl, holding the prince’s hand. He stepped forward on his shaking legs, towards the boy who was like his own son to him.

“Yes..?” The boy’s head cocked to the side, his tone shifted to slightly confused, concerned even. “This may seem like a strange question, but could you please tell me what year it is?”

“1185...” He answered slowly, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. The old knight reached out a trembling hand to the boy. How could this be? He hadn’t seen this face since... “... Are you alright, Dimitri..?”

“Oh... Oh dear...” The young man let go of the little girl, taking and clasping the old knight’s hand in his. Yes, this gentleman had too few gray hairs for them to be in the right time... “Sir Gustave, please look closely, I am not who you think I am.”

Gilbert- no... Gustave did not attempt to pull away from him, but he did study the young man more closely. The resemblance was downright uncanny, almost impossible, but the slightest of discrepancies were visible to someone who was that close to him for so long. The boy’s hair did not fall quite the right way, it was just a tad bit messier than what it was supposed to be. He was also slightly taller than he should have been. Most telling were his eyes. Those were not the grey-blue eyes of Prince Dimitri. They were familiar though. Just like the little girl standing beside this young man looked familiar. “I am mistaken then... But if that is the case, who are you?”

“My name is Lambert. This is my younger sister, El.” The boy took a deep breath, looking anxious, as though this was not information that he was at leave to disclose. “I need to speak to Prince Dimitri, and Lady (Y/N), please. I believe they may be able to explain what is going on here.”

The name Lambert, and the mention of the lady were more than enough clues for Gustave to realize just who these two children were. But how they could possibly be here was just not something he could understand.

You were currently snoozing in Dimitri’s lap, wrapped snugly in his cloak. He did not have the slightest clue what to do with you. Your appearance in the cathedral meant he was supposed to join you on the ground, so he could feign social interaction to avoid concerning the troops, but when you arrived your expression was downcast. Yours fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly. Something had upset you. “Sylvain is okay.” You began quietly.

He refused to show even a fraction of his relief, but it was a great weight lifted off of his chest. He couldn’t afford to worry. He simply nodded in approval, and turned his attention to this new source of stress that needed to be solved before his demeanor cracked. “And you?”

“Um...” There wasn’t concern in his voice, but you knew he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t care. You weren’t hurt, and yet you didn’t know what you were feeling. “I don’t... I don’t know if I’m okay...”

You were unscathed on the way back from Ailell, so something must have changed in the few hours that you were out of his sight. What could be troubling sweet (Y/N) so? “What happened?”

“Casualties were kept to a surprising minimum on the way back, but not all the Fraldarius medics have arrived yet,” You began, trying to keep your voice steady. This all could have been avoided if you had gone straight to the infirmary instead of helping in the stable, “We still didn’t have enough hands in the infirmary and- and-”

“Continue.” He didn’t enjoy watching you fidget uncomfortably. He didn’t enjoy seeing you in this more subtle distress. But he still needed this report, if something as crucial as the medic division was under prepared in the front of the war he needed to wage.

“We had to triage until more medics showed up- had to treat the most pressing cases first. There was this lady- this lady knight with a gash on her hip, and it didn’t look that bad so I said ‘H-hey wait a few minutes,’ and I left to go deal with other in-injuries, and-” Finally your voice cracked, a hiccup escaped you. That poor woman would be alive if you had just gotten there sooner, “When I- When I came back she... She had bled out.”

He watched your head bow as you shook. His Highness came to the conclusion that you were too soft hearted for this mess. It was only going to get worse as the conflict escalated. You couldn’t be blaming yourself for every single death that was to come.  _ That blame belonged to him, and the emperor alone. _ “You didn’t know.” He told you quietly, trying to keep you calm, and to prevent anyone, alive or dead, from hearing him express something as weak as sympathy.

When you had finally settled down enough, he ordered you to rest. Orders were orders. You chose to lay your head against his chest, where you were now curled up, sleeping off your stress, and your guilt, and your failure. His warmth made you feel safe... Made you feel less helpless.

This type of closeness had been moderately acceptable when it was just the two of you. But now there were eyes everywhere. Watching him. Watching you. How could you sleep so soundly knowing that? Knowing what he was? It was confusing for him. On one hand, it was...  _ nice  _ that you trusted him like this. But on the other, you were a liability to him. Something that could be used against him... What was he to do with you?

“Your Highness?” Oh, there was a voice that he never liked to hear outside of war council meetings. Gusta- Gilbert had tried to ascertain his whereabouts for the past five years at every available opportunity. Tried to pry into his actions and choices. The Prince did not want to discuss any of it. What did the old man want now?

He turned his head over his shoulder, careful not to jostle the sleeping woman in his arms, and not responding verbally. There were two smaller figures standing behind the old knight, obscured from his direct line of sight, almost hiding.

“Your Highness, do you know where lady (Y/N) is?”

An irritating question. An irritating assumption. “She’s resting.” His eyes narrowed. You needed to rest before your next shift, which is why he had yet to reveal you. “This better be urgent.” The old knight stepped aside, and suddenly memories came rushing back to His Highness. His jaw felt slack. Lambert and Ellie, his- “(Y/N), wake up.”

“Mmmwha..?” Your eyes opened slowly. That nap had really helped you process, had helped calm you down. But the trade off had left you drowsy. “What's wrong..?” He pressed you upwards, bringing you to a sitting position. You blinked yourself awake, shrugging off the royal blue cloak you were wrapped in. Sheesh, it got brighter in here, still, you peered over His Highness' shoulder. There was Gilbert, and then there was the kids.  **Your kids** .

You had leapt to your feet, Dimitri following after you. How could he have forgotten what had happened with them?! His cloak was left to the floor, forgotten.

“Mama!” Ellie shrieked, flying out of Lambert’s grasp, and into your arms. She slammed into you, though you were much stronger this time.

“OOF-” Not gonna lie, that shit still hurt. You bore with the pain though, trying to keep the little girl’s line of sight away from Dimitri. She shouldn’t have seen her father in this way. You recovered from the toddler with super strength ramming into you, looking instead to the boy. “Lambert..?”

“Mother,” the little prince nodded. You were looking much more similar to how he saw you normally. He seemed much more unsure when he looked at Dimitri. His father was usually a very bright person, who stood proudly and beamed. This man, despite his grand stature, almost wilted. It was like the space around him was repelling light. “Father...”

His words had confirmed Gustave’s suspicions, but how could this be? “Lady (Y/N), you know these children. What is going on here?”

“Oh! Right, you weren’t here for that...'' The Knight’s had been off searching for leads on Jeralt’s killers when the children had been here last, Gilbert among them. Your head was pounding. Memories, memories of these little ones... “They’re... They’re from the future. We met them five years ago.”

“How is that possible?”

“The kids weren’t allowed to give us too many details, but I think it was a spell gone wrong.” You barely suppressed your ‘idunno’ shrug and chose to answer in a more proper manner. “I thought I had sent them back to their time though...” It seems that you had fucked up pretty badly.

It had been five years for you, but it had been less than a half an hour for them. “Mother, I believe we made a mistake in our adjustments to the runes. If we do a bit more digging, we might get this right.”

“Kiddo, slow down, I don’t know if I can do that kind of research right now!” You shook your head, lowering your voice so Ellie didn’t hear you well. “We’re in the middle of a war..!”

This entire conversation, Dimitri had stayed silent, at a loss for words. His eye kept snapping back and forth between the little ones. This was hardly a good time for them to be around, hardly safe. He knew damn well he wasn’t stable enough to watch over them if you couldn’t send them forward immediately. 

The youngest had released you and had crept a few steps towards her father. Goodness, he looked very tired. She unraveled the kerchief that he had tied around her hand when she had fallen, stretching it out to him. “I forgot to give this back to you, papa.”

Before anyone had intervened in this interaction, Dimitri took the white cloth from the little girl, “...” On the corner of the fabric was the initials of the woman next to him. He recognized the kerchief as one you had lent him years ago. He had lost track of it, believing it had disappeared into thin air. He never had the chance to make it up to you. So, this is where it had been all this time... “... Ah.”

Ellie looked up at the man expectantly, “... Papa, you forgot to say ‘thank you,’”

“I’ll thank you on his behalf, kiddo!” You cut in. You didn’t have a clue how the prince would have reacted to being called out on his lost manners by a four year old. You were pretty sure he wouldn’t have done anything egregious, but you couldn’t be certain. “Hey, do you guys want dinner? I want dinner! Let’s go get dinner!” You took each child by the hand and you began ushering them out of the cathedral. It was pure impulse, but you didn’t want to subject them to their father’s current mental state.

The bewildered Lambert looked back over his shoulder to his father, in what could only be described as a severely dark and depressive state. What was going on?! “Mother, we just had dinner-” 

“Great! Time for second dinner!” 

Ellie didn’t seem to understand the distress you were in, “Ooo! Second dinner!” Second dinner was her favorite meal, right behind brunch.

You worked it out quite quickly. It seemed you had lost your memories of their appearance after they left. This meant they could divulge a bit more information with minimal consequences. You were sure to tell Lambert this, because you knew that the poor kid was going to get grilled the second that the Blue Lions realized who he was-

Someone had dropped a glass due to shock when you walked in. And then, Sylvain had exclaimed, “Is that Minimitri and the Little Miss?!”

“They have names you know!” You fired back.

He practically slapped his own forehead, “Right! How could I possibly forget. We’ve got Miss Ellie, and then we have...”

Sylvain got quiet when Rodrigue stood from the table. He strode right up to Lambert, who you let go of, “Your Highness..?” He queried, putting a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“I’m not the one you’re thinking of...” Oh boy, here we go again. Did he really resemble his father that much? That wasn’t the wrong way to address him at least...

The man smiled, “I suppose you aren’t. But, I know a Blaiddyd when I see one.”

And the little prince knew a Fraldarius when he saw one. Given that Felix was seated at the table processing his shock, this could only have been a man of legend. He gave him a bow, “My name is Lambert Achille Blaiddyd, Crown Prince of Faerghus. It is an honor to meet you, Lord Fraldarius.”

“Uh, the kids are from the future... If you can believe that, Lord Fraldarius.” You added to avoid confusion.

“Your father named you after the King and I. That’s awfully sentimental.” Rodrigue smiled, taking that bombshell in much better stride than anyone else had, “If I may ask, who is your mother? Do I know her?”

“Gonna get food- bye!” You dashed away before anyone could see how red you had suddenly gotten. This was awful. You were remembering just how embarrassed you had been the last time you thought about the implications of these kid’s existence. You and Dimitri had fucked at least twice- and now you were realizing, given that you had already slept with him that meant you guys were gonna-  **AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-**

The girl pointed to you as you retreated with your head in your hands. “That’s our mama.”

Rodrigue looked down at the little lady, suppressing an even broader grin. You and His Highness, huh? “Oh, and what’s your name?”

She curtsied at him as her manners dictated, “My name is El Alexandra Blaiddyd, but you can call me Ellie!”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Princess.” The Shield of Faerghus bowed, “Why don’t you two take a seat and wait for your mother.”

Lambert knew that his parent was going to be stalling as long as she could. He couldn’t blame you. This was beyond awkward... Especially with how a few certain people seemed to be studying him. As crown prince, he was used to being stared at, but with this level of scrutiny, it was certainly unnerving. In particular, Lady Ingrid, Margrave Gautier, and his Lord Fraldarius were staring holes through him. “Do you three need something from me?” He asked, keeping his posture correct despite his discomfort. Can’t show how weird this was or that would make other people upset too... Looking at Felix and Annette got him thinking... He had been gone for awhile, was Minerva worried about him?

It was Felix especially whose expression was most troubling. He scoffed as Lambert frowned at him, looking away from him, desperately attempting to find anything else in the room to focus on. Great stonework on the floor, really held up these past few years...

“You’ll have to excuse us. You look a lot like your father did when he was younger.” The boy had heard that ad nauseum today. Sylvain sat to the little prince’s left, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “It’s definitely odd.”

Ingrid had chimed in, “I apologize for staring. I think we’re all just taking some time to process,” She shot a look at Felix, “With varying degrees of success.”

The young lordling simply growled in response, but his gaze softened a bit as he saw the boy in his peripheral. Felix had certainly figured out better directions to channel his anger. There was no need to growl at a child, just because they looked like someone who he used to care about...

The rest of the table was busy doting on Ellie, finding her just precious. Her familial resemblance was more endearing than it was uncanny. She planted herself right between Mercedes and Annette, who looked much closer to the way she was used to seeing them. 

Auntie Mercy’s hair, and funny nun hat were back as they were meant to be. “Aw, you’re just as precious as I remember you being!”

Auntie Annie smiled at her, “It’s still almost amazing how much you look like your mom!”

“I think that’s good, because my mama is very pretty!”

You groaned in agony from across the room, much to everyone’s amusement and or confusion, depending on their knowledge of the circumstances.

“I think this place would get a lot more lively if we took in some more of the children who have made their way toward the village beneath the monastery.” Mercedes kept her eye on the girl. Children were just so cute! Even the older boy had the most squishable face!

“Well, now that we have Rodrigue’s support, we do have more food to go around,” Annette tapped her fingers on the table, “But I don’t know where they would all sleep.”

“I think me and Lammy will just sleep in Mama’s room again.”

Mercedes cocked her head, “Oh, but (Y/N) has been staying in Prince Dimitri’s room.”

Rodrigue took a well mannered sip of tea, but his wry grin remained, “That’s a scandal waiting to happen.”

You scream-groaned again, easily loud enough for the group to hear. Your suffering was absolutely hilarious. Lambert was also slightly scandalized by this, given that he knew for a fact that you two did not get married until after the war. Speaking of piety and leaving room for the Goddess, he had also spotted Lord Seteth and Lady Flayn with some of the Church of Seiros. He wanted to scream too, because they looked identical to how he knew them, and now that he thought about it, they had looked the same five years back. What the hell?!  _ Ugh, fuck, okay _ , he was just going to try to not think about that. If he was going to be stuck here, he needed to stay calm. If he got too flustered his crest would start triggering, and then a lot of shit would start breaking.  _ Deep breathes, Lambert... _

Gilbert had returned from the cathedral before you had brought your food back. He sat with the childhood trio, close to Lambert, who was well aware of the man’s eyes on him. The kid felt bad for these people. He reminded them all far too much of someone they had loved. Someone who was as good as gone.

You cut off the boy’s welling pity by putting some food down in front of him, “Eat up, kiddo. Second dinner is the best kind.” You were going to take a seat by the little girl, but Ashe and Byleth appeared at the end of the table. They were on cooking duty this evening. You locked eyes with the Professor.

“(Y/N), would you bring Dimitri his food?” He asked you.

“I’m on it!” Oh, sweet escape! Thank you, Goddess... You took the tray from Ashe, and turned to Gilbert, “Would you mind keeping an eye on them for a little while?” Yeah, he seemed like a semi-functional adult that the kids were familiar with. This would be fine-ish for a bit.

“Of course, lady (Y/N).” The old knight nodded.

As you fled from the dining hall at the speed of light, Ellie frowned. “Why aren’t mama and papa eating dinner with us?”

(Y/N) come back, shit just got more awkward! How were they meant to explain that her mother was one of the only people The Prince did not get irrationally upset with just for being near him. How were they meant to describe him succumbing to ennui and despair, and every ounce of hatred he had repressed over the years?

You were running from your responsibilities. That’s what you were up to! You were in such a dizzy panic that, much like you had earlier, you ran straight to the other most stressful thing in your life. Well, that wasn’t the right way to describe it. His Highness was not necessarily stressful, but the things he did made you worry for him, or made you downright terrified of him. Still, he seemed to tolerate your presence more than others, and as a loyal subject to the kingdom, you would use that to care for him no matter your concern. Caring for him was a full time job, on top of the other full time job you already had as a general medic, on top of your other other full time job as a medical researcher for House Fraldarius. And now there were children in the mix.

He was reeling after sending Gustave away. The children were proof. Living proof that there was a future for him. One that he did not deserve. What was he doing, starting a family? What about the dead? If they were not satisfied with the head of the emperor- what about the souls from her side? What would put them to rest? He could not stop until they were all at peace. Nevermind that.  _ You.  _ **_You!_ ** Who the hell were you to distract him from his task?!

“Dimitri?”

All was forgiven when you called his name. For now. There were no ridiculous titles or airs put on between the two of you. He could be furious with you later. For now, he would just silently appreciate the fact that you respected his wishes when no one else seemed to care to try and do so.

“Ashe and the Professor were the ones cooking tonight.” Best to assure him that this was made by people he trusted. Your latest task in Prince Handling and Management was making sure he ate. These days he would spend the day decaying internally in the cathedral, unless someone forced food in his direction. And like with most other things, you were the only person he didn’t get upset with for doing so. You wanted to make sure he ate for personal reasons. In that time spent in the monastery alone, you realized how horribly his ageusia worked against him. He couldn’t taste under-cooked or rotting food. Goddess only knows how sick he made himself over his years on the run surviving like that.

He sat down with you on the floor again. He would cooperate with you for simple things like this, and in exchange you would avoid useless chatter. Most of the time...

You pushed the tray towards him. The food smelled delightful, but he stared down at it like it was a mound of sludge. You had a sinking feeling you would be adding to the displeasure. “What are we going to do?”

“Send them back.” He answered curtly, hesitantly chomping on a strip of spiced jerky.

_ No shit. _ “It’s going to take time.” You took a deep breath. That was going to be a lot of work... “What do we do until then?”

He swallowed, and kept quiet for a moment. Gustave had asked the same thing. “They’ll be staying with us, I suppose.”

He always did have a soft spot for children...

The kids were to stay in the bed, you and he occupied the floor. He had briefly suggested you stay with them but, in your opinion, three is a crowd. When Lambert woke in the wee hours of the morning, he saw his mother resting her head against his father’s shoulder, sound asleep. The man was wide awake, keeping his watchful eye on the door. It made the boy uneasy. Where was the light he knew so well? The man looked like the king. But something was very, very wrong.

It wasn’t that they would be mad at him, but the mere idea of potentially disappointing his parents for not speeding this process up made the boy restless. Unable to go home as soon as he’d like, Prince Lambert made himself useful. He cared for the soldiers' weapons, he carried supplies for the monastery staff, he ran notes between the commanders. Possibly most importantly, he became a babysitter.

The orphans taking shelter at the monastery due to the war council's approval took one look at him, and they realized he might have been the prettiest boy they had ever seen. He just appeared much tidier than the rest of them in his military formal garb, his soft golden hair was actually brushed, and he was tall for his age. It was like he was from a fairy tale. He actually kind of reminded them of that really scary looking guy in the cathedral, except this kid was much less gloomy to be around. In fact he was really nice. It turns out he had learned a bunch of white magic, so whenever anyone got any cuts and bruises from games getting too rough, he was there to patch their wounds up. He was also crazy strong, and could pick a bunch of them up really easily! Coolest of all, he had his own silver sword, and he knew how to use it too!

Honestly, the only flaw the boy seemed to have was that he was way too protective of his baby sister. He wouldn’t tolerate her rough housing with other kids, wouldn’t let her play in the dirt, and he seldom let her out of his sight. Not intentionally anyway.

“There, all better, my lady.” Lambert had healed the scrape on a girl he had recognized as his Aunt Mari, not that he was going to confess that to her. He helped her to her feet and realized he may have been doing a bad job hiding his own identity, given that he had been speaking in far too princely of a manner. The young lady was blushing, which was a whole gross line of thinking that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with. Maybe he should have used his speech pattern mirroring his mother, rather than his father. Then again, if too many people heard him cursing every other word, it might upset them...

Mari looked around as the pretty boy was lost in thought. “Hey, where’d your lil’ sister go?”

Lambert took a deep breath, and then “ **FUC-** ”

The shout of frustration had traveled all the way to the cathedral. He got that foul tongue from his mother's side, no doubt. Though the ability to project one’s voice so effectively was definitely a sign the boy was a promising orator. Very, very, very Blaiddyd characteristic... The Prince had expected the child to come flying in here at any moment in a panic, though he would probably turn the entire monastery upside down first. And sure enough he did. He stayed a good ten feet back. Too disturbed by his own father to come closer, was he? “You should watch your mouth, boy.” His voice was stern, but very quiet.

Lambert felt himself growing pale. He bowed and sputtered out his apology, praying that El and Sir Gustave had somehow avoided the sound. “Forgive me Father, I seem to have lost my composure..!” He straightened himself up, and saw that The Prince was seated on the ground with his back to him. His cloak was strewn across his lap, rather than over his shoulders. “Losing track of Ellie makes me very anxious, given the circumstances. Have you seen her?”

“Come here,” Dimitri heard the child’s quiet footsteps creeping slightly closer, so he shifted to reveal the little girl sound asleep in his lap. Just like her mother would do. She had walked up to him without a hint of fear and hesitation, and was snoozing inside of a minute. The Prince had no idea what he could do. He strongly disliked the idea of snarling at a child to leave him alone. Even the dead had been stunned into silence. “Does she do this often?”

“Um, yes. She likes to take her naps near you, or Captain Dedue.” Her two favorite people in the entire world...

“Dedue...” Dimitri echoed, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “So, he is alive...”

Lambert nodded. “I do not think I should give you too much information, but he will return to you very soon.” Seeing the man almost smirk was something else. The entire time he had been in this era, he wasn’t entirely certain he had seen his father emote further than a scowl.

“That is... Very good to hear.” He had been given so much good news lately. The Professor had survived, Rodrigue was alive, well and willing to lend his assistance, Dedue would be by his side again. He and the sweetest woman he had ever met had a future together. They had children who felt safe around him... Too much good for a wretch like him. As soon as the little ones left he would forget all about it, and all this happiness he was struggling so desperately to contain would be gone, along with all the guilt that feeling it caused. “There are better places to sleep than in here. Take her somewhere else.”

“Yes, Father.” As gently as he could, he obediently scooped Ellie up, cape and all, trying not to disturb her rest. “... Would you like your cloak back?”

“Bring it back later. I have several things to discuss with you then.” The Prince observed that the boy did not struggle with the new weight in his arms in the slightest. Granted the girl was small, but coupled with the mass of the cloak... The boy was just like him beyond their resemblance. Dimitri held something out in his hand. “Give this to your mother, if you see her.”

Easily able to cradle his sister with one hand, Lambert accepted the freshly cleaned kerchief. “Of course, Father.” The man did not thank his son, so the boy turned and left without another word. This was so  _ fucking weird... _

He stole a glance down at Ellie as he brought her away from the cathedral. This whole experience was frankly exhausting. Maybe he needed a nap too... His mother always did tell him, if he was ever too stressed, and he couldn’t think clearly, to just go lay down for a couple hours. That was a great idea, mama... Perhaps if The Future King took a rest he would be a bit better off too.

A few hours later, Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix found the siblings snoozing, curled in their father’s cloak, in the courtyard outside the dining hall. “Now this... This is precious.” Sylvain smirked.

“I’d agree with you, if the boy wasn’t as much of a screeching banshee as his mother.” The girl was fine. She asked good questions about fighting, and was unburdened by the frightening resemblance to her old man. Except for her eyes...

“Felix, please.” Ingrid scolded, not too harshly, not wanting to wake the kids. “Perhaps that's for the best. If he really is going to be as strong as His Highness, yelling is a less destructive way to handle his anger.”

That was hard to argue with. The Little Prince stirred then, with a yawn, he blearily looked up towards his aunt and uncles, temporarily forgetting when he was, “Good day,”

“Hey buddy. It’s time for dinner.” Sylvain smiled at him.

The Princess snapped awake then, “First or second..?”

As Lambert blinked sleep away, he realized he was still stuck in the past, in that miserable war that his parents loathed discussing. He frowned, lifting Ellie to her feet. “They only get one dinner here.”

“Oh.” The world they were from was getting to be so prosperous and happy... “Can I sit with Mama?”

“Maybe...” Mother would always go be with Father. She would sacrifice much needed camaraderie and social interaction to go deal with the spiral of misery lurking in the cathedral.

The Trio could read the slight concern on the boy’s face. They knew exactly what he was thinking. “Tell you what, if your mom is busy, you two can sit with us!” The Future Margrave of Gautier shot a wink to Lambert, “Avoid all those old geezers who might scold you for any ruckus you might have caused.”

“If you would have us.”  _ Thank you, Uncle, thank you!  _ If Gustave had heard him earlier-

“Young man!” The old knight’s voice boomed from across the dining hall.

_ Ah... Goddess damn it all... _ Lambert stood stock still as the three generals and the little girl, drowning in the fabric of the cloak, kept moving forward. He sighed, bracing for the scolding of a lifetime. The old man had taken to the mentoring role he had in the future quite well.

“Young man, are you a prince or are you a hoodlum?!” Sir Gustave came storming across the room, coming to a stop before him. “Is that the kind of language they find acceptable in the future?”

“No, sir.” Lambert had actually managed to avoid cursing in front of the old knight for most of his life. He would have to hope that his memories of this event would not return when he got home, otherwise the man might have a heart attack.

“Then why on earth would you ever use such foul language?”

“It was a temporary lapse in judgement, sir. I apologize for the offense.”  _ Ugh, damn it, damn it, damn it _ , he did not want to be having this conversation. He wanted food. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his other sister. And his best friend Minnie.

“Where could you possibly have learned to say something like that?” Gustave’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the room. One of the future lords or ladies? One of the Knights? His line of sight had landed on Lady (Y/N), who appeared to be beelining towards them.

Lambert could see Gustave's gaze. He was blaming his mother! Now, while that wasn’t  _ untrue _ , it was still extremely rude. No one got to be mean to his mom! Not on his watch! “Sir Gustave. The fault is mine, and mine alone. I will not have anyone else being blamed for my behavior.”

“Sir Gilbert, please don’t be so hard on him. Being here has been rough.” You made it to your future son, and you ruffled his hair. He was awfully grown up, for a kid. You didn’t know who the fuck ‘Gustave’ was though. “Besides, he’s twelve. Kids his age swear.” You linked arms with the kid, and tugged him over to the table. “C’mon kiddo. Eat something before he tries to wash your mouth out with soap.”

“Oh, mother!” The boy fumbled around in the pockets of his jacket, “Father asked me to give this to you.”

It took you a minute to process what the little white cloth in your hand was. You hadn’t seen it in years, afterall. The kerchief with your initials stitched into it. You had lent this Dimitri after he had spliced his hand up doing something reckless. This one was perfectly clean though... He had somehow gotten it fixed up for you... Him! Prince Scary-Man! “Uh... Thanks, bud.”

The second you sat down at the table, El partially clambered into your lap.

“Hey kiddo, nice cloak.” You helped unravel the ocean of fabric so she could actually sit comfortably, putting the cloak over the back of your chair.

“You have to eat with us today!” She exclaimed.

“I have to?” You feigned a gasp, “Well, if the princess wants me to, I’ll stick around for a little while.” You definitely weren’t ready to be a parent, but if you framed this like it was  **EXTREME BABYSITTING** , it was easy to care for and humor the little one. Still, you were probably going to have to go make sure that Dimitri-

“Mother,” Lambert had taken the seat next to you, “I’ll make sure that Father eats.”

“Aw, kiddo, you don’t have to-”

“Please. You need a break.”

Hot damn, this kid was sharp. He saw right through you. He saw the bags under your eyes, and the light in them fading, and he saw you yawning at odd times. You were tired. “... You’re a good kid, Lambert...”

Lord Ubert and The Archbishop were the ones cooking again tonight, which was such an odd sight. The food was great though. Lambert took a tray, as well as the great cloak, and he returned to his father’s side. Much like it was earlier in the day, his approach was cautious, and slow. He did not know why he felt so afraid... Afraid of his own father? Wasn’t that so odd? That man looked like his father. But it didn’t feel like it was the same person. His father actually knew how to smile.

Lambert had laid the cloak and the food on the ground, next to The Prince, who had not seemed to move since they had last spoken. He didn’t even look at it. “Why did we name the little one... _ that? _ ”

The boy had a sinking feeling that this was not going to be a couple of questions, but a full on interrogation. “I don’t understand what you’re asking me.” With a good deal of hesitation, he sat down so that he could have a level conversation with this miserable man.

“‘El,’ Who chose that name for her?”

“Um..?” He had to think about that. He was seven when El was born, so his memory was spotty on the matter. If he recalled correctly, they hadn’t chosen a name until she was actually born, but, “I am almost certain you were the one who suggested it.” 

Dimitri’s heart rate was quickening. He hated that vile woman! Why would he do such a thing?! That was something the dead would latch on too, if he didn’t move on quickly. He had more questions, he couldn’t afford to let them harp on that. “The other child. She’s the only one without a crest.”

“It’s impossible for Aria to bear one.” Lambert nodded. “She is an adoptee.”

Aria was a very pretty name... “Is she treated fairly?” A middle, adopted child, bearing no crest to a royal family. Dimitri had never cared for one’s status, he didn’t care about anything anymore, but to think of how the public would view such a situation was troubling.

“Oh, you and Mother adore her.” The boy may have misinterpreted the question. “I know you love all of us equally, but you and Aria are very close... When you’re stuck doing paperwork for long periods, she picks out a story book and she reads to you to pass the time.”

That sounded down right precious. “She’s of Duscur, yes?”

“Oh, does that worry you?” Lambert asked, “The reconciliation has been going well for most of my life. A mining industry is being established, new cultivation methods are being employed, and many, many people serve in this war with distinction. Aria is the crown jewel. The people treasure her, I promise!”

The name of the Duscur people had been cleared? Their lives were returning to normal? That was... That was fantastic. It was practically beyond his wildest dreams. By the Goddess, he would do something right in the future. Reconciliation... Not only was Duscur returning, there were reparations! “When will this land know that peace?”

“I’m not certain how much I should divulge... But, the major fighting ends in a few more months. The situation is much more stable after you and mother are wed next year.”

Right. He and (Y/N) get married. He could process the existence of his children. He would need heirs, after all. But the wedding... As he was, processing the fact that he was sharing his life with someone was  _ difficult _ . It didn’t seem possible. He was a monster. The misery around him was almost contagious. Why would someone like her... “Your mother... Is she happy?”

“I don’t know if I can speak for the feelings of others.” His eyes flicked down to the untouched meal. “You two dote on each other, if I’m going to be perfectly honest, to an embarrassing degree.” The boy offered a small, slightly nervous chuckle, “I was convinced that my mother’s name was ‘Beloved,’ until I was five or six years old. You have an entire greenhouse on the palace grounds so you can bring her her favorite flowers year round. And she tracks you down to have tea with you every day. So, as far as I can see, you two are quite happy together.” 

That sounded disgustingly saccharine and idyllic. It was sweet, and happy, and was in line with something he had dreamed of as a young and dumb teenager. Something he didn’t deserve in the slightest.  _ Beloved _ . He called her beloved, constantly. Could (Y/N) even handle the responsibilities of governance? How much were all her duties as queen weighing on her? And how could she stand wallowing with him in his unyielding melancholia? Unless this wretched state he was in did truly end when the war did... “Tell me, boy. With all that I’ve done, and all I’ve yet to do... Do I deserve such a life?”

“Father,” Lambert let out a heavy, heavy, heavy sigh. “That isn’t a question for me to answer.” 

He knew about what his father had done. His parents would freeze up if he ever tried to get them to speak about the war. But there were other people he could get the story from. In his whole life, The King had told his dear son of those violent years in detail only once. He had followed his father to the chapel of the palace, and had caught him in deep prayer. He had asked what he was asking the Goddess for. _ “I have done many, many horrible things in my life, Lambert. I have more blood on my hands than any other soldier in the Kingdom. I have stolen more life than anyone else.” _ But the starry eyed little boy did not hear of valor. That wasn’t the point.  _ “I will live with that until my dying days... I struggle with moving on from that dark past. I think that I do not have the right to ask for forgiveness anymore. I must become someone worth forgiving. And so, I must do everything I can to make up for what I’ve done.” _ Everything his father did was to make the lives of others better. To clean up the mess he had such a large part in making. _ “My dear boy, be just, and be merciful. Be a better man than I.” _

“In my time, you work every day to help those who need it most. The man I call my father lives to make the world a better place. That man deserves to be happy.” He studied the slouched figure, his papa, depressive, wrathful, who’s mere presence was making the air colder, “But, here and now. If you want to try and be a better person today, then yes, I think you deserve the peaceful future you have waiting for you. If you don’t, then no. But, the only person who will decide which path you take, what you live for, is you.”

Dimitri had to admit, this young man was almost terrifyingly wise beyond his years. What was he doing at age twelve? Breaking swords? Fishing friends out of wells? Running around without a care in the world? And this child had sage-like advice to unfathomably weighty questions that a grown man had no business throwing at him. “... You are a very kind young man, Lambert.”

It hit the boy like a battering ram, his parent hadn’t called him by name since he got here.

“You ought to leave now.” Both of them. They were just like their mother. Kind and gentle, and unafraid of all the evils in the world. He shouldn’t make any further impressions on someone like that.

“Father, you haven’t eaten anything yet.”

“Are you going to stay here until I do?”

“If I must.”

So similar, it was almost frightening. The boy pitied him.

Lambert spent his remaining time in the past much the same. Care for the weapons, run the memos, keep watch over the younger children (Who had all started yelling **FUCK** anytime anything didn’t go their way.) But he was doing much more observing, especially of his parents. His father was much less rough in speech to his mother than anyone else. He never shouted or demanded things from her. He never raised his voice in her direction, meanwhile he’d growl and roar at just about anyone else who crossed him. 

He would go to her whenever he was injured. Even more curiously, when she was injured, she relied on him. They had returned from an expedition, and it seemed she had been struck through the leg by an arrow. His father had carried her all the way to the infirmary himself, and waited until she was healed before he left. 

Not that the future king would admit it, but seeing Lady (Y/N) going about wrapped in his cloak on colder days proved that he worried for her the same way she worried for him.

Even as things were, he was able to understand why they would get married eventually. They trusted each other. They were close. Still there was an unease about their dynamic the little prince was unable to shake. Lambert would have had to be blind to ignore how... frightening Prince Dimitri was. Returning from battles, uncaring of the blood splattered on him. His generally unpleasant and harsh attitude. Nevermind that monstrous strength. The boy was well aware of what that kind of power could do if control and focus were lost. There were far too many crushed lance and sword grips at home proving that - and Lambert was leagues better at managing his temper than that ghost with his father’s face.

“Mother?” The boy addressed you one evening.

Honestly, being called ‘mother’ constantly was super fucking weird, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by correcting him. You were brushing Ellie’s hair before bed. Dimitri was off getting washed up at your behest, and the little prince had been lost in thought for some time. “What’s up, bud?”

“I have to ask... Are you... Afraid of  _ him? _ ”

Smart kid. Not naming names to avoid upsetting his sister. Still, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I mean, I think he can be quite frightening, but I wouldn’t call that fearing him.”

“Who’s  _ he _ ?” El asked.

Lambert more or less skipped El’s query. “But he’s so...”

“Kiddo. He’s not going to hurt me, I promise.” You shrugged, “Be realistic. What does harming me get him? One less medic, one less administrator, and losing a cover story for his behavior.”

That reminded him of something, “Mother, I just want you to know, it is not your job to ‘fix’ my father.”

“Aren’t you sharp for your age? Thank you, Lambert, but it’s not your responsibility to bear the weight of your parent’s troubles. Don’t you worry too much, okay?” It was reassuring, knowing that you had such a considerate kid waiting for you in the future. “The only person who can fix Dimitri, is Dimitri. He has demons other people can’t even begin to understand. But, he’s my friend, and I want to be there to support him if he needs it.”

Speak of the devil, His Highness walked in with a scowl on his face. “What sort of fool are you?” He wasn’t making much of an attempt to hide the fact that he had been eavesdropping.

“A tired one,” You yawned as you tucked El into bed next to her brother. Then you took your place on the floor, patting the space next to you, “Now hush, and let me sleep.”

If anyone else spoke to him like that, they would be dead. The Prince’s gaze landed on the boy, and the scowl shifted to a frown. So that was how he was being viewed. Well, it wasn’t like he had done much to ease any concerns.

“Goodnight Mama, goodnight Lammy, goodnight Papa.” El rolled over to face her brother.

Dimitri sat down next to you, ready for his night watch, “... Goodnight, little lady.”

After a few more days of triple over time research, consulting some questionable resources in the shadow library, and speaking with Constance, Lysithea, and Linhardt all at the same time, you had worked out the correct runes necessary to send the children back to their own era. You were one hundred percent at your wits end, your ears were bleeding, and your tolerance for backhanded remarks was at an all time low, but you could consider this mission accomplished.

You told Dimitri first, but he didn’t seem to be reacting to it. He had gotten even quieter after that night, still you let him know that you would be sending them back from the Knight’s Hall after lunch, if he wanted to come say goodbye. You might have heard him let out a “Hm.”

You found the kids with Rodrigue and Gilbert. They were very attached to Lambert, probably because it made them happy to have a small Dimitri-esque person in their lives again. Or maybe the boy gave them hope that The Prince was going to recover, and learn to cope with whatever mental hell he was in now. But they were fond of El for that same reason.

Lambert, with his very pretty handwriting, was taking notes for Rodrigue on some supplies, while Gilbert was having a simplified conversation on axe throwing with Ellie. You still seemed to be the only person in the Kingdom who was concerned about giving a four year old a throwing axe. But apparently your stance relaxed in the future?? Goddess damn it all, future you, what were you doing?

“M’lords,” You respectfully greeted your boss, and the old knight.

“Good day,  _ Your Majesty _ .” Rodrigue greeted you with a grin. He thought it was funny how flustered that made you. Damn you second father!

You gave an irritated grunt from his teasing, but quickly turned your attention to the kids. “I think I’ve got the runes right this time.”

Lambert practically leapt out of his seat.  _ Thank the Goddess! _ He wasn’t going to say anything, because he was a very good boy, and loudly yelling ‘fuck’ had him on thin ice, but the past sucked, it seemed like all he did was eat with depressed people, or sleep fearing for his life, and he wanted to go home so fucking badly.

You waved him to sit down. “Eat lunch first, say goodbye to everyone. I’ll see you two in the Knights Hall when you’re ready.”

The first person the boy said goodbye to was Rodrigue. “Lord Fraldarius, it truly has been an honor to meet you.”

He was quiet for a moment, and then he asked a question Lambert had been dreading all this time. “I’m not around in the future, am I?” He watched the discomfort, and the sadness in the little prince’s eyes. He offered a pat on the shoulder, “Well, there’s not much I can do to fight fate... It was an honor to meet you as well, Your Highness. You as well, Princess.”

His farewell to Gustave was less bitter sweet. He left him with the promise that Prince Dimitri would return to him eventually. Truly return. Not as a violent husk, but as an honorable, and kind man.

You were well aware that you extended the opportunity to Dimitri to see the little ones off, but you were not expecting him to actually do so. “... Thanks for being here.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Would you be offended if I said that I was?” His answer would determine if you would uncomfortably scooch away from him at the edge of the sparring pit or not.

It took him way too long to reply, “I don’t care.”

For some reason, you did not believe him. You decided it would be for the best if you started tracing the correct sigils in the pit, just so you could be certain you had them correct.

“This is something I should be here for.” He deemed this worthy of explaining his presence. In other words, he wanted to say goodbye to them.

“It was good to see you two again,” When Lambert and El joined you, you gave the boy the notes, once more, just in case he ended up in the wrong time again, and because you didn’t want to piss off the future archbishop, 

“I cannot apologize enough for any inconveniences that we may have caused.” The boy gave you that princely bow of his, “Thank you for your assistance, Mother.”

“Of course bud, but um... Maybe watch your mouth, okay?” Where the fuck did he get that from anyway?

“I’ll see you soon, mama!” El latched onto the fabric of your skirt until you leaned down to give her a hug. Then she set her sights on The Prince, “Papa, lean down.”

He had looked to you for approval. You nodded, urging him on. Neither of you were equipped to deal with her throwing a tantrum at the last minute. He knelt to be level with the child, more or less freezing as she threw her arms around him. Getting such genuine affection was shocking. Frankly you were the only person who ever laid a hand upon him, and that was in a very different context. This... Almost made him feel sad. He was going to forget this, the second they disappeared.

“Goodbye, Papa. Be nice to Mama, okay?”

He managed a small nod of his head, at least showing he acknowledged what she told him.

“Father,” Lambert took El’s hand and pulled her away as you geared up to cast the spell, “Things are going to get better, I promise.”

The room was flooded with a flash of light, and when it cleared you were surprised by the person next to you. “Dimitri? What are you doing in here?” Him? Outside of the cathedral? Um??

He threw the question right back at you, “What are  _ you _ doing in here?” What business did you have in the Knight’s Hall?

“I-” Actually, what were you doing? “I don’t... remember.” 

He had already turned and was walking away, and so you pursued him, curious to see if he remembered anything.

When the light cleared, the children were met by a shrill voice, “Ellie! Lammy!”

“Aria-” El was yanked from the boy’s grasp by her sister.

Meanwhile Lambert was suddenly aware that his feet were no longer touching the ground, and that there was a vice grip around his waist. “F-Father?!”

The King, clad and white, light radiating from him, had swept his son off the ground, holding him as close as he could. He hadn’t held the boy like this in far too long. Her Majesty joined the dog pile shortly after.

They were finally back...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As king, Lambert puts a significant amount of emphasis on MENTAL HEALTH AWARENESS. I just feel like since the kid is so intuitive with the feelings of others, he’d be a big advocate for that type of thing. Fuck it, Fhirdiad School of Sorcery? Move over bitch, it’s the Fhirdiad School of Psychology! Where we address healthy methods of coping with trauma, and mental illnesses developed from it in the aftermath of the war of unification!
> 
> Anyway, I guess I just want to say thanks for still reading and all! We’ve broken 10k hits! Like that's insane! It means a lot that people like this whole shabbang enough to keep looking at it <3 We’ll be back to your regularly scheduled requests next week!


	35. Dork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anime_hotty_lover_24 has requested of me some post er- stormy period dima being an absolute dork. And I love that, so we’re doing it.

It was freeing to be able to express himself again without feeling like he was betraying everyone he had lost. He was allowed to grieve, certainly, but he could not let his loss control him forever. He had to move on, and move forward. One of his most frequent acts of free will was finally being able to properly dote on Lady (Y/N). He had adored her in his youth, and he had adored her when he was a wretch, and he adored her now. He finally felt like he was able to act on his affection.

This meant he was able to go about with her on his arm, and to share meals with her, and to hold her close without feeling wrong. He was also able to observe several habits and quirks of hers that made him melt from how precious she was to him.

He noticed his favorite quirk of all over a cup of tea with her. Unfortunately for him, he had no idea what exactly he did to trigger it. All he knew after hearing it, was that her laugh was one of the most adorable sounds he had ever heard in his life. She was laughing.

But her laugh was not quite like anything he was used to. When he was engrossed in high society, laughter was almost artificial, it was reserved, curt, and mostly done to be polite. Among combatants in the war, laughter was boisterous, mocking, almost exaggerated in what it was. But her laughter was genuine. Her giggle was so forceful it made her wheeze and snort, like a cackle, and it made his heart skip a beat. It may have sounded odd, but it also sounded authentic and alive. She could hardly contain squeals as she gasped for air, and in between she had been turning a bit red, as though she was blushing at him-

And it made him crush the tea cup in his hand.

“Oh my-” She snapped out of it was soon as he did, “Dimitri!” She grabbed his clenched fist, forcing it open so that she could brush away all the broken shards, some of which was cutting up his fingers and palms.

He did not mean to tense up like that, splattering tea and glass everywhere, but he was far too overwhelmed by all this love and adoration swelling in his chest. She was so cute. There were not enough words in any language that could express how endeared she was to him.

“Is this what you meant when you said you were clumsy?” (Y/N) asked him, already healing the cuts from the shattered remains of the tea cup.

That was exactly what he meant. His strength made him downright awful at handling fragile things. He did his best to take caution most of the time, but he was known to slip up here and there, breaking weapons, crushing rolls of parchment. He had once broken the finger of one of his nursemaids as a baby, and the fear of doing such a thing to anyone innocent again followed him everywhere. Additionally, he wasn’t the best with more common social cues, mostly being taught political language and diplomacy. It made him a mess for delicate, intimate conversations. It was a miracle that he hadn’t accidentally crushed her at any point, or said ridiculous, less than thought out things like “Your laughter is quite adorable, please do that more!”

“... What?”

‘What?’ Indeed...

The remnants of the tea and ceramics were collected and disposed of properly, profuse apologies were offered to the dining hall staff, the Dear Lady called him silly, and business continued as usual. Except it didn’t. He wanted to hear her laugh again. He  _ needed _ to hear it again. His heart hadn’t ever done something like that before. That was a feeling that should be felt more than once.

It was quite apparent to anyone with at least one functioning eye that His Highness was distracted and enamored by Lady (Y/N), in the sweetest and most genuine way. Watching the way he behaved around her reminded people that true love existed, and that one of the best ways to describe the prince was  _ ‘goober _ ,’ rather than  _ ‘chivalrous gentleman.’ _

If the lady expressed that the air was a bit cooler, The Prince would fasten his cloak around her shoulders, holding her closely, easing her concerns that now he would be cold. That would not be a problem as long as she stayed with him, he would reassure her. He did not have the slightest idea how cliche and romantic that sounded to the average bystander.

If she had a day off, with nothing to do, if she looked even remotely bored by a rare dull day, he would sacrifice all of his fleeting free time. He would track down Ashe, and Ingrid, and he would get recommendations. And then he would run to the library, and he would collect their suggestions. And then he would pick out even more that he remembered enjoying at some point. And just before he ran out of time, he would bring her a large collection of books for her to read. Two or three probably would have been fine, but he felt like the stack of ten was a safer bet, because she could read quickly, and maybe she wouldn’t like a few of them, and would want to read something else. He had forgotten to consider how she was meant to carry so many tomes around. Regardless, she would grin, and thank him for thinking of her. Some people could only dream of having a partner that attentive and thoughtful.

Goddess forbid the lady say that she was a small bit peckish. The mountain of sweets she would be met with would be concerning to say the least. The monastery dining hall was supposed to be rationing, and the lovestruck prince, as well as one very sociable professor were really not helping that situation. It was extremely wasteful, but his affection was so true that there wasn’t a soul alive that wanted to tell him to stop. And no one was going to stop the other food thief from eating eight times a day, because it was astoundingly good for morale.

In most of these instances of His Highness being increasingly ridiculous and somewhat over the top embarrassing, (Y/N) would tell him that he was acting silly with a radiant smile on her face, but she still hadn’t laughed again. It was like she was embarrassed by it! Did she not understand the warmth she had given him? Something so precious was not meant to be hidden! He felt like such a fool, not being able to recall how he invoked her giggle fit the first time... What was he going to have to do to hear the laughter that left him purely awe-struck?

People often described him as someone without humor. Jokes, especially tasteless and tactless ones seldom landed well with him, nor was he good at cracking wise himself. As Sylvain once told him.  _ “No one has ever accused you of being funny.” _ In his own defense, he did have his own ‘brand’ of humor. He was particularly fond of bad puns, that could not possibly be described as funny no matter how one looked at it, said in such earnest sincerity that they circled back around into being completely and utterly hilarious. That was his bread and butter. They possibly added several years to his lifespan. Those were the only things that could send him to the floor in a fit of laughter. Alois was a master. He was so astoundingly unfunny, that it inspired joy in the prince. It left him unable to contain the roar of laughter, putting his underused vocal cords to use. Perhaps the same methods could get at least a small snort or chuckle from his beloved (Y/N)?

He had spent days and nights between paperwork and battles for his life practicing and learning some new material and jokes in an effort to perfect the most straight faced delivery that he could handle, and from there he worked on inflection and expression. His goal was to be able to actually say the pun without busting his own lungs at how horrible they are, but being too stilted would be off putting. There was a tremendously delicate balance that he had to meet to get this just right to make her happy, even if it did make him look a bit foolish.

“Dimitri~!” She called out to him in a sing-song voice from across the training ground.

What perfect timing! He was just about done sparring for the day, and he didn’t have any meetings scheduled. His entire afternoon could be dedicated to her. “My beloved,” He crossed the ground, took her in his arms, and twirled her around, much to her delight.

“Would you come walk with me?” She asked him, wrapping her warm hands around his.

How could he refuse such a request from such a sweet woman? “If that is what you would like.” Arm and arm they went out of the training ground, aimlessly wandering the Monastery grounds, pleased as can be with the other person’s company. Now was as good a time as any for him to begin his barrage. “(Y/N), do you know what they’re serving for dinner tonight?”

She cocked her head and thought for a moment, “I believe it's going to be Fried Crayfish...” Not personally her favorite, he recalled.

“Hm, smaller servings then. Do you think it would be  _ shellfish _ of me to ask for seconds?”

“Well, no. People like you and Raphael need to eat mo-” She stopped, reconsidering if she had heard him correctly, “... Need to eat more.” She finished. Perhaps she did mishear him...

So that one did not land. That was fine, he had many, many more up his sleeve that he could use. It was about then when they were making their way past the greenhouse. “Have you planted any flowers recently?”

“Oh, I haven’t. I’ve been spending so much time in the infirmary lately, I’ve hardly had time to get any seeds.”

He made a mental note that she might have needed more free time. Perhaps he should check and see if the medics shift’s were properly balanced. “I suppose you can’t plant flowers if you haven’t  _ botany. _ ”

“Oh, you think you’re funny, don’t you?” A smile was growing on her face. She was catching onto what he was doing. “I hope you keep your timing correct, if you plan on dropping puns for every building we pass.”

“My dearest, my jokes will never be poorly timed. I am far too  _ pun-ctual _ .”

“You stop that,” She groaned, though she gave him the smallest snort of laughter, “These are just terrible.”

He grinned slyly, “You don’t have to stop yourself from laughing. They’re clever jokes!”

“These are crimes against the very concept of comedy.” She released his hand, only to reach up and hold his face, “I know what you’re trying to do here. It’s not gonna work. I don’t like the way my laugh sounds.”

“Why?”

“It sounds weird, embarrassing, and wheezy, and way too many people have told me so.”

**How dare they.** How unbelievably rude! Insulting and demeaning such a precious and genuine sign of joy... “But I adore the way you laugh.”

She pinched his cheeks a little, “Dimitri, you are the biggest, clumsiest, sweetest dork I have ever met.” She gave him a peck on the nose, “I love you so much.”

He might have been blushing. He didn’t know that he could do that. Yes, his face was heating up, but now they were having a heart to heart on this little stroll, and he could not get distracted. “(Y/N), my beloved, I do not wish for you to ever feel embarrassed around me, for any reason.”

Her grasp on him shifted into a hug. “I’d laugh more, if you came up with less cringey jokes.”

Very well, he would work on that then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gamers, you ever love someone so much that just looking at them makes you break shit? I had to really go diggin' for some of these puns, so I hope you guys appreciate them. I don't expect you to laugh at them, cuz they're not funny. Or, I don't think that they're funny. I'd say they're more endearing than anything.
> 
> Anywhoozle, next week we're doing a follow up to that modern au! So look forward to it~!  
> If y'all want anything else, you just let me know ^_^   
> Catch ya later, skater!


	36. Missing Person II: Less Missing Than He Was Before, But Now He’s in the Kitchen Indefinitely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So queeniehoney has requested a follow up, and as always, I am pleased to oblige. Dimitri is being tracked by Dona Edelgard’s familia, and somehow he winds up in your kitchen!

What the fuck did you have to do?! What the fuck was it going to take to get the god damn island ranking up in Animal Crossing?! What the fuck?! How many more fucking fences and flowers were you going to have to throw down for this shit?! God damn you, Tom Nook!

So, one good thing came out of your injuries from your staged scuffle. You were given two weeks paid leave from your co-op. Hell, Doctor Casagranda was upset you weren’t being given more time, because the bruise across your neck was still visible, and rather unpleasant in its color. How lucky you were that your windpipe was not crushed in the assault! Shame on hospital security for not being prepared enough to come aid you in such a frightening situation! And shame on people like Officer Riegan for trying to get you to recount information on the event so soon, while the ligature marks were still so purple!

To be honest, you didn’t really give a fuck. More time to bring cool fossils to Blathers! ... And to distract yourself from the fact that you aided a wanted man. He might have been killing mafiosi, but that didn’t really change much to someone who had to take the hippocratic oath. Murder was murder, and you helped him get away. Have you done something terribly wrong? Have you done something good? Your kinda-sorta boyfriend was alive?! Thinking about it all made your skull hurt more than your neck did. _Oh, Dimitri..._

Back to Animal Crossing! Okay maybe this was too much escapism... Better switch to Breath of the Wild.

You settled into your couch, quite comfortable in your sleeping shorts and tank top, ready to game yet another afternoon away, when much to your annoyance, your phone buzzed. You cursed yourself from not putting it on ‘Do Not Disturb,’ but checked it with a sigh. You had to answer, just in case it was a coworker checking in, or if it was Claude looking for a follow-up interview on the ‘crazed patient’ that had ‘attacked you.’ You don’t think he fully believed your story.

The number was still hidden, but you figured out who the text was from pretty quick. **‘It’s me. I’m sorry to bother you again.’**

He considered his escape from the hospital a bother to you? Bless his heart. _‘Sup?’_ You shot back. Oh god, oh fuck, you were still helping him. Shit! Damn it! You fool! How devoted to your nostalgia were you?!

You had been under the impression that it would take him a bit to reply so you could go beat a couple shrines before taking out Vah Rudania, but his response was almost instantaneous. **‘Under heavier fire than usual. Do you know any good hiding places?’**

Well, there were certainly a few rooftops you could see from the hospital that a person would not think to look for intentionally. They were feasible places to hunker down for a couple hours. _‘Hiding for how long?’_

His answer filled you with exceptional dread. **‘A few days, at least.’**

What in the world had he gotten himself into now? Who was the heavier fire coming from? How persistent were they that they were willing to scour the city for days? _‘I mean, my couch is open, I guess?’_

Oh, now what the hell were you getting yourself into?! You screamed into the cushions of your couch the second that you realized you had hit send. You had opened your tiny ass studio apartment to one very broad shouldered, wanted man. **‘Thank you, (Y/N).’**

Because you had apparently thrown your self preservation instincts out the window as hard as you could, you gave him your address, and lamented the fact that you were going to have to put on actual pants before he got here. You also put Animal Crossing back in. You were going to need the escapism it seemed. Maybe you should have asked Annie if you could go to her island, since you were pretty sure she had ranked up before you...

A knock on your door occurred before you had found the motivation to get dressed. You panicked. “One second!” Keeping him waiting so you could throw some jeans on probably would have been rude, so you grabbed a fluffy throw blanket, and you draped it over your shoulders. That would have to suffice for now. You took a quick look through the peep-hole of your door. Sure enough you saw a young man in a blue parka, with the hood up to obscure his pretty, but shaggy blond hair. His eye patch aided in hiding his face, but he took extra precaution in wearing a surgical mask as well. Still, you knew it was him.

You opened the door. He wanted to come in as quickly as he could, likely fearing any other tenants spotting him, but you could also see that he didn’t want to rush you, leaving him nervous in the hall, hiding something behind his back, near where the rucksack over his shoulder was.

Frankly, you didn’t want your neighbors asking any questions either, potentially implicating you in anything. You waved him in without a word. Once he crossed the threshold, he yanked the door from your hands, closing it behind him. “... Hello.”

“Hey.” Now you were getting a close up look at him. His jacket was coated with dirt, and grass stains. Him cutting off your exit had spooked you just a bit, but you were more distracted by how horrifically awkward the two words you had exchanged were.

He finally got a good, non-nervous look at you too. His eye had landed on your neck. The mask shifted a bit on his face. You could tell that he was frowning. He stretched out the thing he had been hiding, “... These are for you.”

It was a fist full of chrysanthemum blooms that you immediately recognized as being from the front garden of the property next door. A smirk grew on your face, but you managed to suppress your laughter. He was definitely trying his best, you’d give him that. The man was on the run, and probably couldn’t afford any apology gifts, but he made an attempt. “Thanks, they’re really pretty.”

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” He murmured and then he gestured to his throat, “And for _that._ ” He couldn’t bring himself to say anything further about your bruises.

You shrugged, looking at your glassware for something to put the flowers in, “It’s cool. I’ve been given some time off, so it wasn’t too bad.”

“Still, it doesn’t...” He pulled down his mask, and you could tell for certain that he was distraught. He was never good with faking facial expressions. If he was hiding anything, he’d have kept a blank face, so you didn’t doubt his sincerity, “Does it hurt?”

“Not really - or, rather it doesn’t bother me as long as it doesn’t get touched.” You suppressed another shrug. Two in a row would have been rude, “Anyway, take a seat, lets talk.”

He put his bag down on the floor by his feet.

Your kitchen table set, now adorned with a vase of mums, could seat three people if any guests accepted they would be elbowing each other a few times over the course of a meal. It was a find you nabbed at a thrift store in ‘Abyss.’ It wasn’t the safest part of town, but things were cheap. Your salary could cover essentials like rent, and groceries (and video games.) New furniture was very much a luxury. Dimitri didn’t fit very well in the chair. He was just... too tall, too built. He hunched over the table a bit so that he could be more correctly level with you. He didn’t used to have to do that to speak with you. Had he really grown that much, or was this slouch a sign of the strain on his body? “So... I can’t help but notice that you’re covered in a shit ton of dirt. I’m assuming this is related to you running from something?”

He nodded. “I threw myself down an embankment to escape some of Hresvelg’s dogs. It was _a bit_ steeper than it looked...”

“ _A bit?_ ”

“... It may have been _a lot_ steeper...” 

That told you that his lack of depth perception was hindering him. “It’s a miracle you didn’t break anything, doing something that reckless.” You twisted yourself around in your chair to get your first aid kit off the counter. You didn’t really have enough cabinets to tuck it away somewhere. For once that was convenient. “Any scrapes you want me to take a look at?” 

He eyed his left arm with a bit of visible hesitation, “Nothing that I would consider too serious.”

“Oh, Dimitri...” This was the same motherfucker who wanted his IV out less than thirty minutes after waking up from surgery. Dumbass was probably ignoring some serious injury... You made a mental note to check his arm later. You would have to work up to getting that dealt with. “Whatever... Care to tell me what you did to the Hresvelg’s that you have to go M-I-A for lord knows how long?”

“I took out one of the Capos.” He stated grimly.

“... Oh my god.” Your stomach dropped slightly. You didn’t exactly expect that bombshell. He had _killed someone_ just a few hours ago.

A grimace remained on his face, “I apologize for making you uncomfortable. Should I leave?”

“Um, no. You can stay- its just...” You swallowed, “Wow...”

“For what it’s worth, he wasn’t an innocent man.”

“I wouldn’t expect a gangster to be a nice guy.” You continued to study him, much like he was studying you. You were both stiff, uncomfortable, but comparatively he was a mess. There was also a suspiciously rust tinted stain on his cheek. It didn’t look like dirt. Your throat got tight. It crossed your mind that it was blood splatter. “Do you want to clean yourself up a little while you’re here?” 

He perked up a little, “What do you mean?”

“I think I have some clothes that might fit you. You can take a shower, and I can throw what you’re wearing in the wash, if you want.”

He blinked- er, _winked_ , at you, surprised by the offer, “I wouldn’t want to impose...”

“I almost insist. You’re tracking mud all over my furniture.”

“Ah.”

You had gotten him a couple of towels, and some oversized sweatpants as well as a large blue plaid flannel. Those were both more thrift store finds. They made good pajamas in the winter, which is why they were out of storage. They would fit him well enough. Maybe. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind them smelling like lavender. Though it was tempting to rummage through his bag, or to run for your life, you were making conversation outside your bathroom door, just so he knew you weren’t running off and calling the police on him. “So... Why didn’t you tell anyone you were alive?”

“That’s a loaded question.” He replied. You heard the water start running on the other side. Based on the noise, he had gotten in immediately, not even waiting for the water to heat up, which was frankly the scariest thing he had done yet.

“I mean, your uncle, Mister Fraldarius, hell, even your bodyguard - They would have helped you.” Seriously, Felix’s dad still checked in with you from time to time. Dude was just plain nice.

“I don’t want to get any of them involved in this. It’s bad enough that I’m here. If any of your neighbors saw me...”

You gave a snort of laughter, “I live next to an old folks home, dude. You think Dementia ridden old lady Chevalier would rat on you?” Of everywhere that he could have been hiding, your apartment was arguably the safest. Your neighbors wouldn’t remember him, if he somehow failed to sneak by them. 

“While I don’t think the familia at large would try interrogating the elderly, I can’t be too sure.” He paused, and you were hoping it was because he was rinsing his face, and not because he was thinking something terribly serious... “Regardless, dealing with that vile woman is something I need to do myself.”

“I’m sure you know a lot about the familia - why not try working with the police-”

“Not all cops are like Claude, (Y/N). Half of the city department is on the mob’s payroll. Besides, I need my revenge.”

For his father, you assumed. You supposed you couldn’t fault him for that. Then again, _cool motive, still murder..._ Suddenly you heard a bit of a fumbling noise, followed by a series of thuds. “You good, fam?”

“I’m sorry, I dropped the shampoo bottle.”

You couldn’t help but cackle, needing something to break the tension. All this time, and he was still a clutz, it seemed. He turned the water off. You assumed the shuffling you heard was him getting dressed. “(Y/N)?”

“Sup?”

“I hate to bother you, but this shirt is a bit small on me.”

“That’s the biggest top I’ve got though...”

So, he couldn’t button the fuckin’ flannel. He was too buff. He still wore it, because it was better than nothing, you just had to avoid staring directly at his _absolutely shredded_ abs. Didn’t want to start blushing too obviously, right? You also didn’t want to stare at all the scars on him. He had cuffed the sleeves, revealing a massive scrape on his arm. Or rather, it was a sizable gouge in his skin. That was what he had been thinking about earlier. You scolded him, and promptly bandaged it up. While you were, your stomach growled. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

“I forgot to eat today.”

“How..?” Somehow he had been led to believe that you actually had your life together, and were capable of basic self maintenance. Possibly because of your career choice.

“I’ve been playing Animal Crossing...” You watched his eye light up... Did- Did he want to play Animal Crossing? “Have you eaten today?” His lack of response gave you your answer. You were craving some good old chicken noodle soup, the ultimate comfort food. “Well, let’s make dinner then...”

You thought it was quite cute when he offered to help, temporarily forgetting who he was. Dimitri had volunteered to cut up some carrots, onions, and celery for you, while you diced up some chicken. When you turned back to him, it became abundantly clear that he had never attempted to chop vegetables before in his life. Between his time as a modern day prince, and his subsequent years on the run, the need to develop kitchen skills had not popped up. Instead of cubing them, he was just sort of slamming the knife down, leading to awkward chunks of veggies that weren’t going to absorb broth well.

“Whatcha doin’ there buddy?”

“My best...” He replied quietly, awkwardly resting the knife down on the cutting board you gave him.

“Do you need any help?”

“Yes, please.”

Without much thought you got between him and the counter top. You put your hands over his, guiding him as you properly cubed the onions. You were about to start making thin slices out of the carrots when you felt his chin resting on your shoulder. The contact reminded you of the position you were in, but he seemed laser focused on learning how to prepare food correctly. 

His hands were calloused, but warm, and his breathing was even and calm, and realistically the only thing separating the two of you was that throw blanket over your shoulders. He was completely oblivious to how sweet and tender this was. But you were both happy. This is how things should have been between you, had he not disappeared all those years ago.

You made the mistake of leaving the television on the news while you were cooking. It was another press conference by the police. Claude was in the middle of another update “... discovered the body of high ranking mafioso Randolph Bergliez. I cannot divulge any further details at the risk of jeopardizing the investigation.”

At the mention of the gangster, Dimitri’s hand clenched harder on the knife. You felt tense too. Hadn’t you two gone to a school with a Bergliez..? His name wasn’t Randolph it was Cas...? Cas-something... Whoever he was, you could only hope that there was no relation. “Do you want me to turn it off?”

He was almost shaking, “Please...”

So, he could feel guilt. You pat his hands, and he let you go by. “Officer Riegan, is there any chance that there is a connection between this killing, and the vigilante in blue?” A reporter yelled over the rabble, You hit the power button before Claude could give his answer. Then, there was another knock at the door.

Dimitri froze, “Are you expecting someone?” He asked, barely above a whisper. Hopefully he didn’t think you ratted him out.

You shook your head, then crept towards your door. You motioned for your guest to go closer to your sink, more out of sight from the doorway. You looked through the peephole and, “Oh!” You sighed with relief, and winked at Dimitri, “Hey, put three tablespoons of oil in the pot, and then throw in all the veggies.”

You opened the door, careful not to open it all the way, and the green haired man greeted you, “Hello, Miss (Y/N).”

“Pastor Seteth, how are you?” You smiled.

“I am well, thank you. My sister and I heard about what happened to you, and I thought it would be good to come and check on you before I went next door.” The man would go do service for the old folks home during the week, since the situation with the prep school had been all kinds of scrambled because of Edie...

“Aw, I hope Flayn wasn’t too worried. I’m doing just fine!” You reassured him, a bit loudly to drown on the simmering sounds coming from your kitchen.

“That is very good to hear,” He stretched a little gift box out to you, “Flayn made you these. I promise, they are almost edible if you dip them in milk first.”

“Wow, she’s getting better isn’t she?” You kept that smile plastered on your face to avoid seeming rude, but Seteth knew very well how deadly and lacking his sibling’s culinary skills were. You still took the box of cookies from him.

“She has been taking cooking lessons with your friend Dedue-” The pastor was cut off by a clattering noise, the sounds of a spoon colliding with cookware, “- Oh, do you have company over?”

“Um-” _THINK FAST THINK FAST THINK FAST_ “Y-yeah- Yes!” You cleared your throat and leaned back to get a look at the fugitive, “You okay _babe?_ ”

Dimitri was looking back at you like a deer in headlights. Dedue was one of his best friends. He likely hadn’t made any contact with him in years. He collected himself, catching on to your cover story, “I’m fine, _love_ , I just dropped something...”

You turned back to Seteth, “Sorry, he’s clumsy...”

“I wasn’t aware you were in a relationship.”

“Ah!” You put your face in your hands, feigning to cover blush that might have actually been very, very real. “Promise you won’t tell my dad! He told me I shouldn’t date until I’m done with nursing school!”

The pastor seemed taken aback, “Well, confidentiality I suppose... Very well, I won’t tell your father-”

“Or anyone else! People talk, you know?”

He put his hands up defensively, “Right, right. I won’t say a word.”

“Phew,” You huffed, beyond relieved, “Well, Pastor. I don’t want to keep you too much longer. Please tell your sister I said thank you!”

He knew this conversation was very much over, “I’m glad you’re well, (Y/N). Please reach out to us if you need anything.”

“Of course!” You smiled and waved as he went down the hall. It took a considerable amount of willpower to not slam the door shut. You whirled around to give Dimitri a thumbs up. 

He was hunched over the counter, like he was nauseous. “That was so unnecessarily stressful...”

“Soup will make you feel better,” You went to go add broth to the simmering veggies. You needed to distract yourself from being called ‘ _love,_ ’ before the sounds of it ringing in your skull made you faint.

Once you were done teaching him some of the most basic of basics in meal preparations, you and Dimitri enjoyed the fruits- or rather _the soups_ of your labor back at your painfully tiny kitchen table. He still didn’t fit well, but you were both doing better as you got food in your stomachs.

He couldn’t taste any of it, but he still asked for seconds, and he shoveled it all down quickly. To your horror, he even had some of those rock hard cookies. It made you sad. Living as he did, he could never be too sure when his next meal would come. This certainly seemed like the first hot one he had gotten in a while. But watching him eat a borderline unholy amount of soup also got you feeling weirdly nostalgic, “Remember when you’d come to my house after class?”

He had the manners still in him to swallow before he spoke, “Vaguely, but fondly. Why?”

“I just got reminded of when you ate instant ramen for the first time...” You had an amused smile on your face.

He gave you half a chuckle, “I’d never had it before, is that so odd?”

“Deadass, I’ve never met anyone who hasn’t had cup noodle, or maruchan, or something before.”

“I’m glad you showed it to me. I effectively live off of it now.”

Oops, now you were sad again, “Dude, that’s so much sodium...” People need more things in their system than salt and grain! Veggies, fruit! Good lord! How the fuck was he that ripped if all he ate was instant food?!

“It keeps me standing at least...”

You had been doing so much impulsive shit today, and this moment was no different. You reached across the table and took his hand in yours, “For as long as you’re here, you’re going to actually eat. We’ll make whatever you want, okay?”

He actually smiled, “Thank you, (Y/N).” And he held your hand back, for the hours that you two sat together at that table, chattering and laughing time away, discussing what sweets, and what dishes you were going to try together. Maybe he would be able to actually taste a few of them! You were so excited to go grocery shopping tomorrow to get all that you were going to need for the days ahead! This is what you should have been doing these past five years, between work and school. You were robbed. He was robbed. But now you were making up for it, even if it was only for a little while.

“Oh, geez...” You yawned, looking at your phone. Before you knew it, it was midnight. “We should go to bed. I’m pretending to keep my sleep schedule relatively normal.”

“Right. I’ll be on the couch, I assume?” You both glanced over to your little living room-esque area.

“Uh...” There was a teeny tiny problem with his plan. Your sofa was more of a loveseat, and a small one at that. It was no problem when someone was sitting upright, and two people could be seated comfortably. But someone laying down, especially someone his size... “That’s not gonna be too comfy for you.”

“I don’t mind. Believe me, I’ve been in worse places.” 

You frowned, “Dude, trust me, that thing is barely a good place to take a nap.”

He cocked his head, and brought his hand to his chin, “What do you propose I do then?”

Your line of sight went to where you slept. You had a rice paper divider that your father had gifted you between your bed, and the rest of the studio. The bed itself was queen sized. You could fit two people on there no problem. “Well...” 

He followed your gaze, and you swore up and down that he was getting a bit red in his cheeks. “Oh...”

“I can make a pillow wall. Remember when we used to do that when you stayed over?”

“Yes... I suppose that will be fine...”

Ahaha... Oh boy, this shit was happening...

Fat lot of good the pillow wall gave you, because when you woke up, you had your face absolutely buried into the back of Dimitri’s flannel. He didn’t seem to mind, he was sound asleep for the first time in who knows how long. It wasn’t so bad. He was pretty toasty, afterall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever I think about what Dimitri gets up to in this world, I inexplicably have Skidrow from Little Shop of Horrors on loop in my empty ass skull. I don’t think it affects this one too much, but like, damn... I do not have thoughts, I only have “DOWNTOWN, WHERE THE FOLKS ARE BROKE, DOWNTOWN, WHERE YOUR LIFES A JOKE” screaming in my head, in the best of ways. Probs gonna go rewatch the movie now, lmao.
> 
> Also, I apologize if the formatting is... off, this chapter. My laptop got sent to the shadow realm yesterday, so I’m updating from my phone, and it’s feeling ‘meh,’  
> I’ll come back in fix it up once I get my computer back, if anything is wonky.  
> Alright, y’all know the drill. Stay safe darlings <3


	37. Ace III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one is a followup request from Emsomnia following our ace reader line. They have asked for some post stormy dima and ace reader being goofs and reaffirming their boundaries, and as someone who’s always down for repping my fellow aces, I say, FUCK YEAH. Fun fact about being ace, sometimes people forget that hugs and what not might be PRETTY OKAY. You know what every human I have ever encountered finds attractive? CONSENT. Always ask your partner/homie, gamers.

He was back to normal. Or, as normal as one could be in his position. He did not growl at shadows, or passerby. He ate with his friends, and smiled at strangers. He had let go of the hatred in his heart, and had chosen to live for the rest of the living. He was ready to move forward. Prince Dimitri was as accepting and kindly as you had remembered him being in your youth. You could not possibly be more happy for him. There was a man who had been completely broken, but was now ready to start over, and live well for his own sake, and the sake of those around him. This was a man who could lead his people.

Still, something felt slightly off to you. It was not necessarily a product of him being in a better place, but something had changed in the way he acted around you. It was... bumming you out a bit. You had been under the impression for several months that despite everything, you had an emotional and physical closeness with His Highness. You thought you had a relationship. But as of late it felt like he was avoiding you. Like, beyond just being busy, you had not been by his side as you believed you should. Even if you were in the same room as him, even if you were right next to him, he was purposefully keeping you separated! You could not shake the feeling that perhaps he was upset with you somehow.

Which is why you were genuinely confused when he asked you if you would like to sit for tea with him. He would not have done such a thing if he was mad at you. Yet when you reached out to hold his hand, he instead linked arms with you. It was a small difference, but it was a less intimate gesture. More cordial. Less affectionate. More cold.

He was the perfect gentleman once more, pulling a chair out for you without complaint, pushing it in once you got seated. It was nice that he had manners again. A dining hall staffer brought you your tea. You missed the times when you made it for these occasions yourself, though they weren’t all that long ago.

“How are you, My Lady?” He asked you with the most gentle smile on his face.

“I am well.” You stared down at your tea absent-mindedly.  _ ‘My Lady...’ _ How long had it been since he had called you that? Er- wait. Had he ever called you that before? That was... quite the term of endearment, coming from him. 

“You seem a bit distracted, (Y/N).” He noted, bringing his chair closer to you. This was how you would spend time together when you were young, “If anything is troubling you, you know you can tell me.”

Goddess, he was so attentive... He had carefully taken your hand now, clasping it delicately. Ugh, this was infuriating. Did he hate you or not?! “We haven’t had much time to ourselves, have we?”

“I suppose we haven’t. I apologize. My schedule hasn’t been conducive to quiet moments like this.” He let you go so he could have a sip of his tea, “I am quite glad to be with you now, at least.”

He was being so polite. He didn’t have to be sorry. Obviously he was busy! You found it within yourself to tear your eyes away from the cup. He had his hair tied up, keeping it out of his handsome face. He had found the drive to care for himself physically again. You could not help but reach up, and tuck some stray strands behind his ears. His smile beamed ever brighter as your fingertips brushed his cheek. “You’ve been taking care of your hair without my help, hm?”

“I would not object, if you ever wished to brush it for me again.”

“I’m not working in the infirmary tonight.”

“I’ve finished my work ahead of time.”

A grin spread across your face to match his. “It’s a date then.”

Night fell, and for the first time since Dimitri had become approachable again, you occupied the dorm room together. The rumor mill might have had something to say about that, but like all those years ago, no one wanted to interrupt such a sincere relation by pointing it out to either individual involved.

The Prince was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and you perched on the edge of the bed, pulling the brush through his silken locks. He sighed when your fingers dragged down his back after. “That feels nice...”

“Don’t get too excited, I’m almost done.” You slipped off the bed, and knelt in front of him, so you could properly part his hair for him. “Good thing you’re been tying this all up lately. It’s getting longer!”

“Perhaps I should cut it soon...”

“Awww, but I like it when you tie it back. You can’t do that if it’s short.” You twirled your finger in a strand, once more giving you a reason to stroke his face. You brought yourself just a bit closer. You were waiting for something. Why hadn’t he...

He leaned into your hand a bit, enjoying your warmth, “Well, if you are that fond of it, then I shall leave it be.” Did anyone else have such a stake in his personal matters?

While it was a pleasant reaction, it was not what you were looking for. Just a few weeks ago, if you were in this same position, he would have curled his arms around you. He would have pulled you into his lap. He would have brought his lips to yours. And of course he would have released you if you had told him to, never wanting to overwhelm you with something you may not have been ready for. But as he was now, he just... Wasn’t making any moves towards you. At all. You had been waiting, and expecting, but he wasn’t doing anything! Like hell you were going to go in first- really, what if he didn’t want you to?! He was the one who usually initiated... The anticipation was damn near unbearable. This was killing you!

Just when you locked your gaze with him, and you saw the faintest red dusting his cheeks, he yawned, tilting his head away from you. “I never know just how exhausted I am until it creeps up to me like this.”

“Heh, I understand.” You tried desperately to not appear confused or upset. “Bed time?”

He nodded quietly, helping you to your feet before unceremoniously flopping onto his bed. You crawled in after him, only for him to scoot over and give you more space. “Goodnight, (Y/N)...”

What. The.  **Fuck.** What was happening?! Did he not feel the same way about you? Oh Goddess. Oh fuck. What if he didn’t love you- Is that why he was avoiding being around you? Had you being sexually avoidant driven him away?! FUCK. FUCK.  **FUCK.** Granted, you could always just ask him if something had changed- but  **boy** , that had so much potential to be an unbelievably awkward conversation, that you just kept it to yourself like a damn coward. You squeezed your eyes shut, balling your hands in the sheets, trying to keep your anxiety down. “G-goodnight...” _ Dimitri... _

After a few more days of being kept at arm's length, the distance tore you up so much, that over your next cup of tea, your voice cracked as you asked “Do you hate me?”

He dropped his tea cup. “E-Excuse me?” Thankfully his hand was low, so the porcelain survived the drop, though the table was now splashed with chamomile. “What?!”

You spoke slowly, just to be sure that you both understood your question, “Do you hate me..?”

His jaw dropped so hard, it definitely would have broken had it hit the table. “Wha- I-” He took a quick deep breath to settle himself, “My beloved, why would you ever think such a thing?”

“Okay um...” You hadn’t actually considered having to articulate your thoughts on what you believed was happening. You were expecting a yes or no answer, not a demand for an explanation. “We haven’t really... You haven’t- Ugh!” You clasped your hands together, willing a coherent sentence from yourself, “I feel like you’re avoiding me! You won’t let me hold your hand, and you don’t hold me at night- and- and-”

“I hadn’t realized... (Y/N), I must apologize.” Forgetting any and all propriety he was adhering to, he pulled you from your chair, holding you to him. Exactly what you had been wanting him to do. “I did not want to overwhelm you any further than I likely already have.”

You threw your arms around him. You had missed this. You were okay with hugs. Especially his, which were always so warm. “Dima...” He had been worried about overstepping your boundaries then...

“I was not particularly kind to you, up until very recently... Taking hold of you as I pleased was not respectful of your limitations.” In that moment he was taking caution in where his hands were on you. “I’ve spent these past few weeks considering how to apologize for my behavior. I did not want to try anything until I had addressed-”

You cut him off with a quick kiss. “You were always so careful though..!” He still seemed a good deal surprised by your actions, meaning it was up to you to make the point. “You never did anything that upset me, or made me uncomfortable!”

“So we’re alright then..?” He asked, coming to his senses.

“Yes! Yes, we’re fine!” You were really close to raising your voice. Oh, silly, sweet, precious man. Were you both really that foolish? Where all this anxiety you were both feeling could have been resolved with a simple conversation? Agh, of course you were... “Thank you for not wanting to over step, but please, please stop avoiding me!”

“Then it’s alright if I...” His hands went from where they rest carefully on your back and shoulder to your face he leaned in towards you.

You closed the gap. Yes, it was okay for him to kiss you. You may have had boundaries for how your intimacy escalated, but you trusted him. You loved him dearly, and being in his arms made you happy. You two were going to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are quite a few aces reading these, huh? Ah, my dear brethren, we deserve more rep, don’t we? Guess that’s what these requests are for then! Thank you for requesting Em!


	38. Dork II: Dad Jokes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mini follow up for Anime_hotty_lover_24 to Dimitri continuing to be a bumbling, but very lovable teddy bear, featuring our dearest little ones.

His Majesty once told his beloved queen, shortly before they were wed, that he would try to improve his joke telling abilities. By all accounts, he more or less did the exact opposite, and somehow came up with even more painfully awful excuses for puns and affronts to the mere concept of humor. But, it made his wife laugh on occasion from how sincere, and yet terrible they were, so he never stopped doing it.

One could even say he got worse when the royal family welcomed their children, both in his joke telling ability, and in being less terrible at handling anything that required a careful hand and an ounce of social restraint

King Dimitri loved dad jokes. Almost as much as he loved his wife and kids. Such an earnest man he was, it seemed he was born to tell them. And tell them he did, to the extremely mixed reaction of his family. 

His eldest had never responded extremely positively, nor extremely negatively to the odd joke. He would either swallow a groan, or would sigh out, “Keep trying, father...” believing wholeheartedly that if the man kept trying, he would genuinely improve. The King was under the same impression. His boy was bound to laugh at one!

Puns aren’t funny to him. He had his mother’s jaded personality, but he was too kind to find humor in another person making a fool of themselves that same way she might, giving everyone a false sense of hope that maybe one of those awful jokes would land. Prince Lambert was a starry-eyed fool believing it was possible.

There was only one particular occurrence where His Highness ‘high key snapped,’ in response to one of his old man’s awful jokes - and it wasn’t necessarily the jokes doing. They had been sparring together, a rare bit of free time, strengthening their already tight bond. The Fraldarius family was coming to visit that day.

Lambert desperately needed to blow off some steam before they arrived. Last time they had visited during the Garland Moon, and he made Minerva a crown of flowers. When she asked how it looked, The Prince had blurted out that _ she _ was pretty, and he hadn’t been able to look her in the eye after that. His line of logic was that if he tired himself out before he saw her again, he wouldn’t have the energy to say or do anything stupid as hell. And so he clashed training swords with his father, one of the only people in the palace who matched the young man in raw strength. Lambert may have actually been stronger than his old man, but the king was much more experienced and disciplined in his swordsmanship.

His father easily picked up on where the boy was putting his weight, and so he disengaged, beat the blade down, and gave his son a whack in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. “There’s more to fighting than brute force, Lambert.”

That was incredibly rich, coming from him of all people... The strike was a warning, rather than an attempt to harm him. The Prince needed to keep his guard up. “You’re right Father...”

“You seem distracted today.” He offered his boy a hand up, bringing him to his feet. He didn’t usually fall for that, “Is something the matter?” He practically answered the question himself with his next one, “Is this about Lady Minerva?”

Lambert grunted, his face turning red. He also happened to clench too hard on the blade in his hands. The air was filled with the sounds of a creaking noise. The hilt was now at a different angle than the rest of the blade.

“No need to get _ bent _ out of shape, Lamb...” King Dimitri told him with a smile he was unable to hold back.

Oh Goddess above, he thought this was amusing. “Father, please..!” The boy looked down at the busted training sword and sighed. This was embarrassing.

“You didn’t think that one was funny? Oh well...” There was always next time, he supposed. Seeing the boy so flustered over Minnie reminded him of how he used to bumble his way around his beloved (Y/N), how flustered they used to get around each other. How precious! “Maybe Minerva would find that humorous...”

“Don’t you dare!” Lambert yelled, raising his voice at his father for possibly the first time ever. He was not upset at him, but he was on the cusp of panicking, “I do a perfectly fine job of embarrassing myself in front of her, and I do not need your assistance!”

“My goodness, calm yourself,” He put a hand on his boy’s shoulder to steady him.

Prince Lambert took a sharp deep breath, “Ah, excuse me, father. I just get so terribly nervous over Min-”

“Lambert~!”

Choking down a yelp, the prince gave a shy wave over his shoulder, where a girl with flaming auburn hair was sprinting her way across the balcony.

“It’s alright, Lamb. She’s your best friend.” If he could dork his way into the queen’s heart, his son could do the same for any maid. The King ruffled the boy’s hair, “You’ll be just fine.”

King Dimitri made the wise choice to lay off making any puns towards Lambert for a while. And also never even considering making one near the young lady Fraldarius so long as his son was in ear shot. His wife referred to it as ' _A real bro move,'_

Princess Aria responded very well to her father’s fairly mediocre sense of humor. It was fair to describe her as a bit of a daddy’s girl, given how she tried to spend as much time as she could with her father. Tragically for everyone who knew her, this meant she developed her old man’s penchant for jokes that while occasionally clever, were seldom actually funny.

She would read to her father as she worked, and they would both fire back and forth puns that no one else would enjoy over the shenanigans, and misfortune that would befall the characters.

When falling down a hill was written to imply that the Luna Knight could be quite clumsy from time to time, Aria quipped that she _ had a nice trip _ . This sent the king into a roar of laughter.

There was another passage about one of Loog’s descendants. ‘His Highness, compared to his siblings, was quite introverted,’ to which His Majesty chuckled, “More like, _ His Shyness. _ ” Which made Aria wheeze so hard, her guards, Theo and Claudia, burst into the room thinking the royal family was being attacked.

It was an echo chamber of two painfully unfunny people, but damn it all if they weren’t amused. What kind of monster would have wanted to ruin such a source of happiness for the two goofballs?

Claudia and Theo absolutely got the shortest end of the stick, since Aria would practice her material at them, wanting to have the perfect joke for her papa when she saw him next. They would just smile and nod, trying not to groan in pain with each cheesy joke.

Princess El had the lowest tolerance for dad humor, by a wide, wide, wide margin. Where her sister was genuinely amused, and her brother was trying desperately to be polite, Ellie could not bring herself to do either. Every pun was like a punch in the stomach. They weren’t funny. They were never funny. Watching her mother laugh once in a while at her father’s increasingly ridiculous word play? Sweet, but still  **not funny.**

El had completely given up when she was around fourteen or fifteen. Years of grumbling had not stopped the onslaught of bad puns. She could not bring herself to fake laughter another day.

She was the perfect little lady. She was a princess, and she enjoyed being a princess. Her brother was a rough and tumble holy knight, her sister was a willful mortal savant. El? El liked ax throwing, but that was more of a hobby than anything. Did she have super strength? Yes. Did she use it for much? Nah. She was so caught up in horticulture, and charity work, and poetry, and baking, that she never really developed a decent physical outlet for her more irritable frustrations. 

Especially her father’s excuses for comedy.

And then, shortly after her birthday, after a long morning of joining Aria in fencing practice (she was all gross and sweaty now ew!) She joined her father for lunch. She was making a beeline for a chair at the table, “I’m hungry!”

And then he said _ it. _

“ _ Hi Hungry, I’m dad.” _

El had no clue how she didn’t scream as Aria cracked up. She didn’t make it to her seat, she spun on her heels and left the room before she started throwing hands indiscriminately. 

She passed her mother on her way, who seemed to immediately understand that she was running from an affront to humor. “Honey! We’ve talked about this..!”

Ellie stormed and stormed, because she was too prim to run, until she was finally able to track down the person she trusted the most in the world. “Captain!”

Dedue Molinaro was just about done with his work in the palace for the day. He had plenty of time to get something to eat, see his troops off, and then head to the school to meet his dear Mercedes. “Good afternoon, Your Highness.”

She remembered her manners, curtsying to him and greeting him before her voice got shrill once more, “He did it again!”

“ _ Again? _ ” The vassal sighed. On one hand, Dimitri was clearly amused, on the other hand, the little lady was not, “I will speak with him, Your Highness.”

She could always count on Dedue... She would be taking her lunch with Lady Mercedes today then!

Shortly thereafter, The Captain of the Guard caught His Majesty as he finished up his lunch with his older daughter, and his beloved. “Dimitri, may I have a word?”

“Of course.” The King stood, and smiled. It brought him endless joy, each time someone as dear to him as Dedue called him by name. He didn’t always have to be the sovereign. He could still just be ‘Dimitri,’ The men made their way through the castle walls, greeting servants and knights, “What do you need, my friend?”

“I have received a concerning number of reports that you are tormenting a certain young lady.”

“Excuse me?” His majesty practically froze, almost stumbling over his feet, “Elaborate, please.”

“Yes, Princess El cannot possibly take anymore of these strange jokes of yours. She has asked me to put an end to their reign of terror.” Dedue stated matter of factly.

“Strang- They’re just puns...” The King had to do some thinking, about a decade and a half worth of memories. Yes, his baby girl did often grimace at his wit, but he hadn’t thought much of it during each occurrence. Perhaps he should have been more observant... On another note, why was The Captain of his guard addressing this, “Dedue, who do you serve? Me, or my daughter?”

The vassal folded his arms, “Dimitri, when was the last time you helped my wife make pastries for me?”

Ah. Yes, El did that fairly often. “Fair enough...” Alright, less puns around Ellie then...

When the Queen heard about what had transpired that night, she pointed at her husband, and wheezed and snorted in her odd, but authentic way that she laughed.

In retaliation he swept his beloved off her feet, beginning to carry her to their bedchamber, “It’s alright my dearest. I know that you still enjoy my jests. Why don’t you and I read my joke book before bed?”

“ **Noooooooo-!”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it a bit shorter than usual? Maybe so. Do I still like the idea? Yes. I am always hype AF for Dimitri getting to have a family. Man deserves it after all the shit he's gone through.  
> Oh, while I'm here, I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT. “Dimitri’s spouse is soft, and he likes them.” THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION.
> 
> I've still got like, a month before remote uni courses begin, so like, gimme your requests. I've got the time for em!  
> Drink water, sleep well!


	39. Lovestruck: It’s basically an alt chapter 2 and 3, tbh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anime_hotty_lover_24 (You do have a lot of ideas, my god thank you, you absolute legend) is a big fan of Dima being a hopeless romantic on the inside. Well, so am I. LET'S KICK IT. Dimitri does a lot of thinking, and realizes he might actually be in love. Hope y’all recall the first three chapters of OG Gratuitous! Might want to do a quick refresher if you don’t ;)

The first letter from Lady (Y/N) surprised Dimitri, certainly, but it did not inspire that inexplicable giddiness he had been experiencing more as he got to know her. He still found her interesting, and he was certain to make that clear to her. The next few letters were what truly caught his attention prior to meeting her in person. She had agreed to abandon more archaic formalities, and had even addressed him by name on occasion in her writing, which brought him genuine excitement. It would be rather pleasant to him to have another peer he could actually speak to! A degree of distance had grown between him and his childhood friends, and Dedue... Some days it felt like Dedue was insistent on being a servant, rather than his friend. Both situations hurt him deeply, so it was reassuring to be in contact with someone who was treating him like a regular person. He hated being put above others.

When he had finally arrived at Garreg Mach, unscathed with Edelgard, Claude, and the mercenaries who saved him, he found himself the slightest bit distracted while greeting the administration. Just before he was to speak with The Archbishop, he had locked eyes with the young woman standing by Professor Manuela. He felt an irregular hop in the way his heart beat, and he was almost certain that she was the woman to whom he had been writing all this time. She was... very _ cute. _

It was a miracle that he was able to focus on greeting Lady Rhea, knowing that someone he was genuinely eager to meet in person was mere steps away from him. He could hardly contain the smile slowly spreading across his face. He hadn’t felt like this since... Suffice to say, it had been quite a few years since he had smiled without forcing himself somehow.

Her name was caught in his throat when he was finally given an opportunity to speak with her. He almost felt a small bit flustered. When it was on the tip of his tongue, she had curtsied to him, not meeting his eyes. Without a word exchanged, he felt his chest aching. He had been so hopeful that he would be treated as an equal... Perhaps he could salvage this. He bowed back to her. When he peeked up, he saw her puzzled expression. Her bright eyes were so honest and he could not stop the chuckle that escaped him,  “We discussed in our letters that I wanted to be treated like everyone else. If you’re going to bow to me, I’m going to have to bow back out of fairness.”

Her face flushed slightly. Sadly, his presence and status made that fairly common occurrence. But she was full of surprises. She began to giggle, which rekindled that flutter of his heart, though he did not understand why. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Highness.”

Perhaps he was hoping she would have called him ‘Dimitri,’ But that title was fine enough so early on in their first real interaction, “Likewise, lady (L/N).”

She shook her head. “Just (Y/N) is fine, if we are going to be casual.”

The hope that her words filled him with was practically unfamiliar to him. She really was going to try and treat him as a normal person. Dimitri felt deep in his heart, that (Y/N) was someone he could be happy around without regret. There was no guilt from daring to take a break with her, despite all that he had to do. Without her even trying, she reminded him that he was a human, and that he had limits.

She was an amusing person, from sprinting in the classroom and conducting a full lecture in her nightgown, to her passion for healing magic, to her late night determination at learning to use a rapier. She was so interesting, and she was so intelligent, and she had become so precious to him, he could hardly breath.

He didn’t know what had come over him. It was a night like any other. He was robbed of sleep once more. Recurring nightmares, and voices of those who he had lost years and years ago jolting him awake. And so he decided to go for a stroll, to tire himself out before daring to attempt to rest again. And instead he dared to take her hand. He had only meant to assist her in her quest for finer swordsmanship. But he realized as he adjusted her grip on her blade, that her hand was very soft... Her fingers were not calloused and cold like his were from years of combat. They were warm, and undamaged. She had not been touched by the evils of this world. 

Dimitri realized something from holding her as he was.  _ She wasn’t like him. _ She was innocent. And he cared quite deeply about her. Yes. Yes, he could admit that to himself, finally. He was particularly fond of her, in a manner unlike any kind of feeling he had experienced before. Dare he say, he may have been infatuated with her. Perhaps it was something even deeper than that. And so after escorting her back to her room, he planted a kiss on the back of her palm. Bidding her goodnight was considerably less smooth and natural of him, but if he did not think too much on what he had done, he would not panic. 

If anything, he wanted to try such things again, especially since she had not been made uncomfortable by his actions. He would have liked to bring her flowers to see her smile, and he would have liked to hold her again because she was so warm, and most of all, after several nights where he did find sleep, he had pleasant dreams that put an idea in his head that he had wished to bring her lips to his. Maybe he could make things work between them?

How he wanted, and wanted, and wanted. It was selfish of him, wasn’t it? To pine for the attention and affection of the young lady... What was he to do if she did not feel the same way? And even further than that - he had a duty to fulfill to those who had passed. And once he had achieved justice for them, he was to ascend the throne. How was he to be with her then? Was he really so greedy, so inconsiderate to her, that he would demand her to take on the responsibilities of governance, just so that he could have her at arm's length? How self-serving could he be?

Dimitri desperately attempted to put his selfish desire on hold after (Y/N) learned that her mother had succumbed to her illness. The dear lady had not experienced such loss before, and it clearly broke something in her. That much was apparent after she had fainted, then she clung to him and wept. He knew the feeling of grief well. He knew how she must have felt. “I’m sorry.” He told her. And he meant it. Someone like her did not deserve to wallow in that pain. No one did. He trailed his fingers up and down her back as she heaved and cried into him. He did not know what else to offer for condolences. What else could he say? What else could he do?  “When this year is over... Come back to Fhirdiad with me.”

Maybe he was still being self-centered by wanting to be near her after his time at the academy ended. But he did not believe the offer stemmed from such an impulse. She could do more if she came with him. She could have more resources. She could learn from Cornelia, and could save others from her mother’s fate. Hypothetically being able to see her more would have just been an added bonus to her being able to do great things for the Kingdom, and the world.

He found her strength beyond admirable. She had tried her best to maintain a routine, to continue her work despite the obvious pain she was in. What he wouldn’t do to see her smile again. Especially after what happened in Remire. He needed it. She reminded him of the people he was supposedly fighting for. There was no doubt in his mind that if she had an inkling of the storm raging in his mind, that she would put aside her own sorrow to try and help him instead. That wasn’t fair, she deserved to grieve in peace. He had to stay strong so that she could have someone to lean on.

He escorted her wherever she needed to go to ensure that she could have peace and quiet if that was what she wanted. Though he wanted to shower her in gifts, and trinkets to bring her something to toy with and smile over, he restrained himself to a pastry here and there. Perhaps she would have liked a dagger? More tamely, she mentioned that she would have gotten some practical use out of a prayer ring. So be it then, he would find one that suited her beauty, and he waited with a near childish anticipation for a suitable time to give it to her.

_ Beauty? _ Well... He should have been more honest with himself. (Y/N) was very beautiful to him. She was kind, and gentle. She was lively and fun. She was radiant, both in the sense that just being near her brightened the world around him, and caused a cozy feeling within him. If he was better at expressing himself personally, he would have told her such. He had not been to any for a few years, but he was quite familiar with dances, masquerades, and some such. He could only hope this occasion would give her something to cheer up for. He had been talking himself in and out of the idea of asking her to dance at the ball, but she beat him to it.

Someone had dressed her up in the academy formal attire, leaving her blushing, but she was still willing to tease him with a grand, sweeping bow, as Claude whisked his previous dance partner away. He had attempted to tell her how lovely she looked, dressed as she was, but he had perhaps been too forward. He had flustered her to such a degree that she was keeping her head to his chest, solely so that she did not have to look him in the face. She did so for most of the dance, though the latter half was to avoid Felix being able to see her laughing at him. Dimitri didn’t understand what there was to laugh about. Annette was a very nice young lady, who could hopefully get the abrasive Felix to settle down a little!

This was the closeness he had been hoping for all this time. It was a hopelessly romantic thought, he would admit, but he believed that she fit perfectly in his grasp. Such closeness felt meant to be. Had fate truly granted him something so pleasing? He would like to bring her to the Goddess Tower. It may have been childish, but he thought it would have been sweet to go with her and make a wish. Was being so smitten a weakness? His heart was racing... Was it a bit too hot in here? He tilted his head so that he could whisper to her, “It’s warm in here... Would you like to step out when this song finishes?” He hadn’t wanted to ask loud enough for anyone else to hear, lest they think something scandalous was going on. His affection towards (Y/N) was true, but it was not anyone else's business. 

“Sounds good.” She closed her eyes. He stared down at her with nothing but adoration in his heart, curious as to what she was quietly mouthing to herself.

When their waltz ended, they swept through the crowd before any other student could steal them away for another dance. He got the idea in his head to hide away in the Goddess Tower so they could make their silly wish. They were young, didn’t they deserve to have a small bit of light hearted fun?

And then their lighthearted fun became a very serious conversation about deep desires that would overall improve their mental and emotional states. Not losing loved ones to unforeseen, tragic circumstances, and being able to keep in contact with those one cares for, having a future to promise. Even if those were things they simply could not have...

He told her that he wished he could promise his future to her, if he survived all that he needed to do. He told her he wanted to see her again. He wanted to say how important she was to him. He wanted her to know how wonderful he found her to be, and that it would be a joy to have her in his life forever. But those weren’t the words he chose. Oh, he was terrible at explaining his feelings! He was seldom allowed to do such a thing as he grew up, with the exception of anger, which the court had allowed for him after the western rebellion - but simpler things, simple joys and sorrows were forbidden in the fear it would compromise his proper image - never mind him being able to properly express his adoration for the lady. He was being impulsive with all this. He was losing his composure. He had taken her face in his hands and  **he kissed her-**

Her lips felt so soft against his. He had to be so careful, though this had all been on instinct. He was a mess handling fragile things. If he hurt her from this he would have never forgiven himself. He loved her, very, very much. He may have loved her since her first letter. Or maybe it was the first time he had held her hand. All the same, he loved her now. This was the most alive he had felt in years!

-He returned to his senses very quickly, stammering out an apology, and oh, Goddess above that was rude, and inconsiderate, and he really should have asked before he did that and did he really just grab her face knowing full well how dangerous his strength could be and  **she was kissing him again.**

And soon after she called him by his name. His heartbeat was almost overpowering what she had said to him. People didn’t do that... Hardly a soul called him that... His own name! At his request, she said his name again, and he lost his restraint briefly. He wanted her to be by his side. Forever and always. He loved her, and she loved him back. He was selfish. He was greedy. But for the first time in ages, he could say that he was happy. 

Happiness was always such a fleeting thing in his life...

Things went from bad to worse soon after. Jeralt was murdered. And then El- no. No she didn’t deserve that name anymore. That vile woman was unmasked, and she sent the entire continent into a hellspiral. As Dimitri sat in the dungeons and cells of Fhirdiad, certain that he would die for this crime he did not commit, he realized he had failed. He did not avenge those who had died. He did not clear the name of the Duscur people. And he had been so terribly cruel to (Y/N) in the weeks before the monastery fell.

Dedue... Dedue had given him one more chance to accomplish what he had to do to placate the fallen. Dedue, how could he have ever, ever, ever doubted that Dedue cared for him? That was the sacrifice of a precious friend, not of someone who saw themselves as a tool.

Right then. Dedue gave him this chance to right things. Dedue trailed after him now, just like His Father and Glenn did. Just like all the other souls lost in the Tragedy did. Just like all the souls lost in the defense of the monastery did. He limped away from the castle clad in armor that was too large for him at present. Armor he had stolen from the corpses of men who used to serve him. Men who had betrayed him. He stumbled every once in a while, still getting used to the lack of depth perception. His remaining eye stung with tears. But he had no right to weep.

He would kill them. As many as it took. All of them if he had to. He would kill every Imperial until he got to the Emperor. He would destroy her. He would crush the life from her skull with his bare hand. And then the dead could finally rest in peace.

After that, he could find (Y/N), and he could apologize for how he had treated her. If she wanted nothing to do with him, he would understand. He would love nothing more than to hold her again, but if she said no, then that would be the end of it.

He could not have anticipated that he would see her again before he finished his mission. With all he had seen, and all he had done, and even if he could not tell her, he loved her just as much now as he did then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hi, its me, RacheltheHero. Did you know that... its okay... for boys... to have... feelings??? Normalize your broskies having feelings, okay? Let em’ talk about their feelings so they never bottle everything up and potentially explode one day. Actually, that goes for everyone, not just the mad lads out here. It’s okay to emote in front of your peers. Your pals aren’t your therapists, but you don’t have to hide it if you’re having a rough time. Cool? Cool. 
> 
> No active requests atm, no ideas in my brain that I could make a coherent chapter out of in a week, so idk what comes next! Let me know if you want anything, I guess?
> 
> Over and out.


	40. The Only Upside Is We Know They Still Love Each Other:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from Meg. The King and Queen are terribly, and I mean TERRIBLY affectionate with each other - to the point where other people are like “Please. Please stop. We get it.” Especially their kids...

Over the course of his reign, four people had attended a council meeting at least once, in the King’s lap. Three of those people were his own children, who had more or less grown out of such a habit by the time they turned seven or eight. The only one left was a grown woman, who given her status, should have probably been a bit more civil and respectable. However, Her Majesty would argue in her own defense, that the arms of her husband were the most comfortable place to be in the entire land, and that there was not another place on earth where she could work so efficiently. King Dimitri certainly wasn’t going to stop her - his sweet, beloved wifey still wanted to cuddle up to him? That was wonderful, he could not be happier!

This tradition started because secretly he was being incredibly petty. Was he being a bit immature, doing this to slight another person? Perhaps, but maybe Lord Kleiman shouldn’t have spoken ill of his beloved (Y/N)! What had prompted such irritation towards the viscount, that the king swept aside all formality in serious meetings in favor of wrapping his lady love in his cloak, and holding her to him?

Shortly after the birth of Crown Prince Lambert, the Viscount, having lost a good deal of power now that Duscur had regained autonomy, appeared in court one day, requesting a private audience with His Majesty. Lord Kleiman had an ounce of sympathy from King Dimitri. While he was decidedly pleased with the liberation and recovery of the people of Duscur, he understood that losing such a large tract of land, no matter how benevolent the reasoning was, may not have left the ego of House Kleiman unscathed. The King allowed this meeting, without his guard, because he knew quite well that if he felt like it, he could snap the Viscount in half like a twig.

Dimitri held the infant prince close to him, giving his beloved a much needed break, and getting in as much time with his precious son as he could.

“Congratulations again, Your Majesty, for being blessed with a son by the Goddess.”

“Thank you, Viscount.” He kept to himself that the Goddess was probably not responsible for this bundle of joy, and that his wife was, but noble piety and all that... He looked down at his child with nothing but love in his heart as he settled onto his throne, “He has his mother’s eyes...”

“Do you intend on having another child any time soon?”

_ An uncomfortably personal question _ , His Majesty thought to himself. “Perhaps, when my lady is ready.”

“Ah, Her Majesty...” The Viscount kept his distance from the throne, seeming to understand his place, “My King, may I speak freely in your presence?”

“Of course, I would prefer it even.” He adjusted his cradle on his dear baby boy, the most precious gift that his (Y/N) could have ever given him. “Is something troubling you?”

“Somewhat, My King. I have some concerns regarding the Queen Consort.”

Dimitri’s eye widened, but he managed to nod to get the man before him to continue.

“Have you ever considered the idea of taking on more than one wife-”

“Excuse me?” He had to be careful not to clutch onto the baby too hard. The little one was clutching on to one of his fingers.

The Viscount cleared his throat, “I do not mean to suggest anything ill against Her Majesty. She is a very kindly woman, and she has given you such a precious child. However, she was born a commoner. Another wife could provide you an heir of a higher caliber-”

“You will hold your tongue, Viscount.” The King would have stormed across the room to strangle the lord, had he not been cradling his son. “You will hold your tongue, or your blood will be spilt in this room.”

He could see the sweat starting to bead on the Viscount skins. “Y-your Majesty, I did not mean-”

“Be silent!” The King snapped, taking a sharp breath desperate to calm himself before he upset the baby, “You have insulted the mother of my child! If you think my Beloved is lesser because of her status then I do not care to hear the rest of what you have to say.”

The infant prince stirred slightly, seeming to sense his father’s anger. He babbled up at him, clutching at his finger more tightly.

“Oh, my dear boy...” He sighed. It seems the baby might have saved the Viscounts' life, holding back the torrent of his father’s fury. “Viscount, I do not know what you intended with this, be it trying to marry off one of your daughter’s to me to gain status, or seeing how much you can test my patience, but I think it would be wise if you abandoned this line of thinking.”

Viscount Kleiman was  _ politely  _ asked to leave court for at least a few weeks. The same night, Dimitri went right to his (Y/N), who was laying the infant prince down to sleep. He knelt before his beloved, and he told her, over and over, and over, professing how much he loved her.

The next time the Viscount was permitted at the council table, The Queen was present. King Dimitri took the woman in his arms, greeting her as though he hadn’t seen her in years, when in reality they had eaten breakfast together less than an hour before. “Oh, my (Y/N)~!” He lifted her off the ground, cradling her like she was a bride again. He audibly mumbled into her ‘I love you,’ just so the room knew it. And when it came time to be seated for the meeting, he kept her in his lap, smiling at his lovely wife, and glaring at the Viscount when he wasn’t. And much like he never stopped telling her bad puns, she never stopped sitting with him like that. Actually, they could read and mull over documents together, whispering quietly so as not to be heard by dissenting opinions while they plotted. It worked out well.

The fact of it all was, The King and Queen had not lost a single bit of affection and love that they had for each other since their wedding day, even as the years went by. For better or for worse. Possibly worse for the Prince and the Princesses, because most of the time, their parent’s open adoration of each other was unbearably embarrassing, or had made them see too much.

Growing up, the three royal children often heard the servants of the palace remark on how peculiar the relationship between the two was. Yes, married rulers should find each other relatively agreeable, and if they did feel affection for the other, then that was all the better. But apparently, such passionate adoration, as they had all witnessed in Dimitri and (Y/N), was borderline a tradition defying oddity! Running around together, holding each other's hands instead of linking arms? Inconceivable. It seemed people were almost jealous of the royal couple. Many people dreamed of a partner as protective, and tolerant as His Majesty, while others desired someone open and caring as the Queen Consort. The upside to this is that story tellers, and the public had a good model of what a healthy, respectful relationship looked like to pass down for generations to come.

The downside, for Prince Lambert at least, was that growing up, people said a lot of incredibly weird, borderline creepy shit to him, such as, “Oh, perhaps His Highness is just as doting a lover as his father!” And all he could do was stand there, and stare at them, and pray to the Goddess that they realized that you can’t say crap like that to, around, or about a  _ fucking twelve year old _ . Sometimes they did, other times he would have to remind them that he was a child, and then they would never make eye contact with him again, which was honestly for the best. When he was fourteen, he almost threw an entire horse at a person, because they made this snide remark - “Doesn’t matter if he’s as sweet on her as his old man is to his wife, the Fraldarius girl is gonna have bruised legs,” Lambert spared the horse, but still punched a hole in a stone wall near the person's head. No one talks about Minnie like that.  **No one.**

None of this nonsense was his parents' fault of course, but for a very long time he believed that maybe such inappropriate commentary would cease if his Mother and Father ‘ _ maybe calmed down a little.’ _ Yes, yes everyone knows they love each other. Everyone. Dial it back. Please. Lambert had thought for several years that his Mother's name was 'Beloved,' Not '(Y/N),' And if that was not excessive, then he did not know what was.

El was quite vocal about the two of them needing to ‘Get a room!’ Aria would simply throw her hands up, mumble ‘Gross,’ and then she’d leave.

Nothing quite riled His Highness up like Minerva Fraldarius being threatened somehow. Be it physical, or metaphorical, or what have you. Hence the hole in the wall. Minnie was... Well, Minnie was his best friend, first and foremost, and she was incredibly witty, and smart, and over the years he realized she was also really pretty- But she was also a fair bit sheltered. He attributed this to being the daughter of the highest ranking noble in the entire Kingdom, with Duke Felix fully prepared to cut down anyone who may trouble his innocent little girl, and her mother having grown up a bit naively herself, since her father was an uber-religious knight.

In other words, she had definitely never, ever, ever had any form of ‘ **_The Talk.’_ ** Now, to compare, Lambert’s mother had been a doctor before she was crowned, so his version of events was explained ‘scientifically,’ and matter of fact _ ‘Look kiddo, Sex is a real thing, if you’re gonna do it, be safe.’ _ With his father chiming in to express the importance of consent. 

That was that. Message received. Let’s never speak of this ever again. Meanwhile, if a book Minnie was reading featured two characters daring to kiss each other out of wed-lock, she would turn a burning red for an hour or two. Prince Lambert, being the good boy that he was, made it his life’s mission to keep her away from any such situation until she could reach a point in maturing where she could handle that kind of information without overheating. Easier said than done.

There came a point in his life where a spot of nonsense was absolutely his parents' fault because over a decade and a half into their marriage, they had not toned it down in the slightest. They were still disgustingly saccharine together, and very touchy-feely, and for a good portion of his teenage years, it was entirely groan worthy.

But you know who Lambert was never bothered by? _ Minnie~! _ Minerva was so cute! She barely came up to his shoulder, and she stood on her toes when she got too excited and tried to hug him when she saw him, and it made his heart feel all warm and fuzzy. He could hang out with her for hours on end. The boy was always happiest when she was visiting the palace, or he got to visit her in Fraldarius territory. But, since she was exceedingly polite, she would usually go greet the King and Queen before the pair could go adventuring. And so, the prince was leading her by the arm to the throne room, so that she could say hello.

“Are you excited, Lamb?”

“Excited for what?”

“To go to the academy!”

“Oh!” He laughed weakly, “I suppose...”

Minnie quirked her head, kind of like a puppy, “You don’t sound too excited.”

“I’ll be sad to be away from my sisters for so long, I think.” His parents were terribly over protective of the girls. Lambert was one of their only links to the outside world, sans any restrictions. The year could be a bit of trouble unless his parents got really cool with a lot of things really fast. (#GiveAriaAnotherSwordAndLetHerGoOnAdventures)

“Aw, don’t worry Lamb, there will be plenty of chances to go visit them.” She looked up at him with her shiny amber eyes, and her beaming smile, “Besides, I’ll keep you company!”

His eyes widened, staring dead ahead, praying to the Goddess that she couldn’t see him blushing furiously. She had not realized what her words meant to him. “Thank you, Minnie...” He cleared his throat as they neared the throne room, “All that aside, I’m sure Mother and Father will be very pleased to see you.”

Peculiarly, the knights and guards were outside the throne room, with the doors closed, meaning his parents were discussing something in private. Well, nevermind it all. They trusted him, and he could interrupt if he so pleased. He smiled, and nodded to the guards, and went to partially open the door.

The boy had two thoughts - _If Minerva sees this, she’s going to pass out,_ and **_he is taking this one to his fucking grave._**

He could hear the ‘chuchuchu’ sounds of gentle kisses being exchanged between his parents, his mother practically on top of his father, his fingers curled in her hair - and frankly Lambert had never wanted to drop dead before this moment, but boy that was sounding like a favorable alternative to being alive, and also having any memory of this event. He slammed the door shut, swept Minnie off her feet and started walking away.

“Lambert?! What are you doing?” She flung her arms around him to avoid falling.

He didn’t even register it, “They aren’t in there. Let's go get something to eat.” His voice sounded far away, tired. He was going to have stern talking to them at some point. If he could find any words other than ‘Hey, what the fuck?’ that is...

The knights managed to hold in their laughter until the prince, and his thousand yard stare, and the lady turned the corner of the hallway. The poor kid...

There was also a ‘delightful occurrence’ when the Princesses were together in the library, enjoying tea and novels together, when all the sudden, El’s ironclad composure and properness flew out the window as she spat out her tea, and started coughing.

“What’s wrong?!” Aria nearly dropped her book in surprise. She came to her little sister’s side and patted her back a few times, helping her hack up all the tea that went down the wrong pipe.

“This-this stupid book just reminded me of something..!” She pointed an accusatory finger at the offensive passage of her novel. 

The Sunset Lady scanned the paragraph in question, and all she was really capable of doing was wondering why her sister was reading something so risque. “Um... Ellie, what could this possibly remind you of?”

‘We’ve walked in on them like this before!”

“Walked in on who..?”

“Mother and Father!”

And with the shrill voice of El, the memories came flooding back to Aria.

It was a stormy summer night in Fhirdiad, lightning crackling in the sky with a dangerous frequency. The good news was the torrential rain was probably going to douse any potential fires that it would cause. The bad news was that it was making it terribly difficult for little princess El to sleep.

She was hardly older than five at the time. She had the thought to go wake her big brother Lammy for comfort, but Sir Gustave had been running him so ragged lately that there was a near certainty that he was out cold.

She could always go ask to sit with Aria for a little while, at least until the storm calmed a little. Knowing her, she was awake because she would be chatting with-

“William! I don’t want to go to sleep yet!” The little Sunset Lady stood just outside her door, arms crossed.

“Princess, it’s getting terribly late...” The young guard was crouching before her, trying to finish a long series of negotiation that the maids had started, and failed to finish. Despite being her favorite person, he too, was failing miserably.

Aria took a deep breath, and clasped her hands together, “William, please understand. I’m not tired.” That was pretty solid reasoning, for a seven year old. How could anyone tell her to go to sleep, if she was not, in fact, the slightest bit sleepy?

The guard frowned, “But, Your Highness...” The poor man was at a loss. He was so tired. He didn’t have many ideas left. He wasn’t going to yell Aria, for a variety of reasons, but he was still entrusted with her health and safety, “... What if I ask _ really _ nicely..?”

“Well...” Aria really did like William, and even at such a tender age, she was registering that the young man was growing distraught. All that went out the window when she saw El groggily approaching them. “Ah! See, William? Ellie doesn’t want to go to sleep either!”

That was factually incorrect, Ellie very much wanted to go to sleep, “Thunders really loud...” She mumbled.

“Oh.” Aria’s face contorted into a pout as one of her key arguments in her favor was snatched away so quickly. She let it go for now, her baby sister was much more important! “William, can we go see Mama and Papa so they can help Ellie go to bed?”

The guard’s face lit up, perfect, just perfect. This was exactly the kind of out he needed from this situation. “Yes we can!” No one actually wanted to be asleep more than Will did. He lagged behind as the girl’s lead the charge to the King’s Study. It was common knowledge that The King and Queen had to drag each other to bed if the other had any work to do. There was a good chance they were in there.

Aria was storming ahead, because she loved to run. She opened the door without a second thought, without so much as a single knock. “Mama! Papa!”

Queen (Y/N), sitting down on the desk and facing the King who was standing from his seat, let out a yelp, burying her face into her husband's chest. She collected herself as quickly as she could, and she turned her flush face over her shoulder, “Hi, Sweetheart~!” She noticeably did not turn around fully. Not that the kids noticed at the time, but her shirt was undone and slouched off her shoulders.

Dimitri, quite red himself, took a deep breath as his other daughter entered the room, “Girls, it’s very late. Why on earth are you still up?”

Right on cue, more thunder cracked over. Ellie’s expression grew grim, “So loud...”

“Aw, honey...” (Y/N) was doing her best to hide the frantic movement of her hands rebuttoning her top before William could appear in the doorway behind the girls. “Do you want me to keep you company till the storm stops?”

El nodded. She let her mother scoop her up, and scramble by Will, who’s eyes she could not meet.

Speaking of, he caught Dimitri’s attention by yawning, having finally made it to the room. “William, your shift ended hours ago...”

The guard nodded, “The maids asked me to help settle Her Highness down. It’s a work in progress.”

“You may go William, I can take her from here.”

He was so exhausted he almost forgot to bow. “Thank you, Goodnight Your Majesty. Goodnight, Princess.”

Aria hadn’t gotten a word in edgewise when her father picked her up with ease, “Alright young lady, how about I read you a story, and we’ll let that bore you until you fall asleep?”

The princess sighed, “Can’t you read me something interesting? I promise I’ll still go to bed!”

“Alright, alright. How about we continue with The Sword of Kyphon?”

Aria really missed William, but that deep sorrow aside, “... Ellie.” This ruined such a sweet memory! “Ellie, I’m never going to be able to look them in the eye again!”

El put her head in her hands, and tried to muffle a screech.

Their only solace is that they all knew that their parents still loved each other very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always have a good time when I can bring the kids up for anything (and wow William got to be here too? Damn.) Lovely! Thanks for requesting Meg, I hope this is what you were looking for!
> 
> Are you all doing well? Wearing masks out in public, I hope! Stay safe lovelies! And ask if you want anything <3


	41. Missing Person III: Beachday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queeniehoney has requested a ‘pre-timeskip,’ bit from the universe of our Modern AU. I suppose in the spirit of this summer that has slipped away, we’re gonna have ‘beach episode,’ and also consequences for people who harass others.

You had yet to stir, and realize that your pillow wall had failed, and you were right up against Dimitri. You were having a dream. A really nice one. You were reliving a fun day from five years ago. Despite the distance, it was recalled clear as day...

It was an abnormally hot weekend, in the spring of the school year, almost terrifyingly close to when Edie took out a bunch of her own classmates. But at the time, you, and no one else suspected a thing. You and a few of your buddies had arranged to all go to the beach together to beat the heat.

The Rhodos Coast was about a thirty minute drive from the city, not bad at all! Dedue was set to pick up Sylvain, Felix and Ashe, meanwhile his girlfriend Mercedes was going to grab Annette and Ingrid. You wouldn’t have realized it until later, but despite being older than you, just about everyone in your friend group knew her. She had run Sunday school at a church that most of you went to, she was just besties with Annie, she grew up down the street from Ashe. Mercie was not particularly out of place with your group of prep school kids. She was a very nice lady, and she was going to be your mentor in nursing school in the future.

Now, there was no discernible reason why you and Dimitri could not have ridden in either of those cars. There was still plenty of room in them, however, Dimitri had instead offered to go for a ride on his motorcycle to get there, and well,  **Hell Yeah** , you would do that. That sounded sick as hell!

The whole situation had an heir of some wing-man-like meddling,  _ coughSylvaincough _ , but you and Dimitri still smiled and waved goodbye to your father as the sweet boy handed you a helmet to wear on your ride. Safety first! Your old man was staring daggers through your companion, not that you noticed.

You prayed that the chopper engine would mask your heart beating itself out of your chest as you wrapped your arms around him. Again, safety first! But also, oo~ you could feel how buff he was through the surf shirt he had on.  _ Nice.  _ Dude was  **Built.** You were keeping that thirst to a minimum for your own sake. Didn’t want to pass out on your way there, after all.

The two of you happy rolled up to the rest of the crew, who were unpacking everything from the cars, “Hey guys!” You cheerfully waved as Dimitri rolled you to a stop.

“Took you two long enough...” Felix scoffed with a roll of his eyes. Though the group could not have been waiting for more than a few minutes.

Dimitri did not take his eyes off his old friend as he helped you off the motorcycle. “Felix... What is that?”

The raven haired man didn’t even bat an eye at the question. “It’s a sword.”

“Why did you bring a sword to the beach, Felix?”

“To cut the watermelon.” There wasn’t an ounce of humor in his voice. He was dead serious. Motherfucker wanted to be a real life fruit ninja on the beach. 

With a beaming smile on his face, Sylvain cut in, “I dared him to do it blindfolded, so that’s happening later, I guess!”

There was a good chance that this was just one of those shitty swords you could buy online, so you logically asked, “Can that thing even cut through watermelon normally?”

Answering your question for him, Ingrid reared her head from the back seat of the girl’s car, a clean slice of watermelon in her hand, a product of the unblinded folded test run. “Oh, it absolutely can.”

Okay, so that was a legit fucking sword. Dedue pulled a plastic container out of the back of his car, full of cleanly sliced melon, “Would you like a piece?”

You and Dimitri shared a glance at each other, before both slowly nodding. You had weird friends. You liked your weird friends.

Everyone had gathered up the coolers, towels, and chairs, and a couple beach umbrellas (plus one sword.) With that, you set out to the nearest convenience store so you could get drinks and snacks to put in those coolers other than the aforementioned sword-sliced watermelon. Ashe and Dedue volunteered to watch the group’s belongings so everyone could go get what they wanted and needed before you all went down to the shore.

You took Dimitri by the hand and you circumvented Felix doing his absolute damnedest to nicely tell Annette and Mercedes that buying chocolate on such a hot day was not the best idea. He was met with accusations of villainy. You also squeezed past Ingrid and Sylvain, who were picking out arguably too many dorito flavors, and were also losing the entirety of their shit over the fact that this store was selling Baja Blast Mountain Dew.

“(Y/N), where are we going?” Dimitri asked, slightly fixated on your hand in his. The reasonable snack food was in the other direction.

“Instant noodles, Dima!” You brought him to a back aisle, where a bunch of trash food was. You wouldn’t touch anything there, except for the one actually edible thing you were looking for. No squeezie-cheese nachos, no undercooked hot dogs, no gas station sandwiches, but a microwave for making different kinds of nearby instant noodle to-go cups, “So you can try different flavors! My treat~!” You had to pay him back for the ride somehow, afterall.

“Oh, well the kind doesn’t really matter to me...”

“Don’t be silly, there's a legit tier list for these things, and you need to know the difference. It’s a life skill.” You insisted, mostly to distract yourself from the fact that you realized you had been holding his hand this entire time.

“No, you misunderstand. Taste really does not matter for me,” He looked sheepish for a moment, “I suppose you don’t know about that yet... Have you ever heard of ‘ageusia?’”

“That is...” Your brain was firing at a mile a minute, as you spat out your best guess, “When you don’t have much of a sense of taste..?”

“Yes!” He nodded to your extreme relief, pleased you understood, “I developed just that shortly after the accident...”

Ah.  _ The Accident. _ Dimitri had been in a very serious car accident a few years back. It was the same incident that had killed a lot of his father’s work associates, and several close family friends, like Felix’s older brother. The affair had been a huge deal in the news for a while, because the circumstances surrounding it were extremely suspicious. You had never asked about it, having assumed it was a very sensitive subject. “Aw, I’m sorry,” Were the first words you could think of to reply with.

“Ah, nevermind it all,” He gave you a small smile, and a slight squeeze of your hand, “Since I can’t really tell the difference, why don’t just pick out the one you like the most?”

“Ha! Alright then...”

While you two were chowing down on the best god damn flavor of Cup Noodles available, Felix had seemed to reason well enough with the two sweet lovers, because their interest had shifted from straight chocolate, to getting ice cream, which was a bit more logical given the circumstances. You bet you had wanted in on that!

While the others clambered to pick whatever popsicle or carton that they wanted to beat the heat, you picked and paid for yours with relative ease, and went outside to watch things so that Ashe and Dedue could get what they wanted as well.

It was while you waited for the others to be decisive that _ The Fuck Boys _ rolled up.

Now, you head dealt with fuck boys before. Let's be real, Sylvain was a close friend of yours. But the difference between mister Gautier, and your true type of fuck boy, is that if you were clearly upset, or uninterested, Sylvain would back off. With your average fuck boy, one could never be too sure that the young man in question would not attack upon being rejected. Sylvain would also not jump directly to objectification. He had enough tact to offer a few more surface level compliments first!

The main motherfucker was astounding to behold. He somehow simultaneously had a bowl cut, a mullet, a partial undercut, side burns, and a goatee at once. Looking at him was genuinely incredible. Damn, he really left the house looking like that! His buddies let him leave the house looking like that! Ah, what was the world coming to? He also, rather horrifyingly, did not look much younger than your father was. If that wasn’t legitimately gross enough, the first thing out of his mouth in your direction was, “Nice rack, sweetheart.”

You were genuinely stunned for a second. That was a cartoonishly sleazy thing to say! Was this really happening? When you finally blinked yourself back to reality, finding unfortunately that this was happening you spoke, “Can I ask you a serious question,  _ buddy _ ?” You took a breath, well aware that you had him and his group's attention, and pulled your beach shawl over you more. Mama and Papa didn’t raise a bitch who was going to passively take this shit, “Has that line ever actually worked on someone?”

He flashed a smile that almost made your hurl up all the ice cream you had just eaten, “Well, you’re talking to me now, right?” He stepped closer, and you stepped back.

“You got a name, pal?” This bastard thought he was being cute, did he? A dude north of thirty hitting on someone who was barely past being a teenager? Vile.

“Name’s Pallardo, sweetheart.” He attempted another step closer to you, stretched out an arm to try to touch you, ew ew ew ew ew ew ew!!!!

“Hey, hands off!” You practically hissed. Fuck. Where were the others?

“Aw, c’mon, what’s the matter?” He didn’t take the hint, grabbing you, putting an arm over your shoulder, copping a fucking feel!

“Pallardo, right?” You practically leapt back from the creeps hand, before you grounded your stance. No one fucking touches you without consent! “You’ve got nice teeth. Damn shame I’m gonna knock them out!” On cue you took a swing at him, popping him in the cheek. “Creepy ass fuck!”

Now things probably would have been fine, and ended at that, had our dear creeper been alone. Unfortunately, he had back up dancers, and they did not take kindly to your right hook on their buddies face.

“You crazy bitch!” One shouted, which was honestly a lot coming from a group whose first two words to a very young looking stranger were ‘nice rack,’ He rushed you without much thinking.

You sent that asshole flying with a palm heel to his chin. You had learned that one from Ingrid! The next one got an elbow to the ribs. Unfortunately, you only had two hands, so the third creeper was a bit trickier to hit at the moment, “Oh shit- ACK-!”

He snatched you by the hair yanking you backwards, “Why you-!”

You didn’t even get the chance to scream, before the dude dropped you with a grunt. You heard a thud, as you scrambled to get off the ground, only for you to bump into Mercie, who wrapped her arms around you.

“It’s okay, (Y/N),” She soothed, bringing you away from what was turning into an all out brawl. Ashe and Annie had gotten between you and the fight, “We’re here now...”

You looked back over your shoulder, seeing Dimitri lording over the man who had grabbed you with a beach umbrella in his hands, brandished like a lance. The umbrella was bent now. The man was unconscious. Your friend was seething, shaking with his teeth grit. He was a second away from going ballistic.

Ingrid and Sylvain were clobbering the second man, Dedue was starting to pull Dimitri away before he committed homicide with a beach umbrella of all things. Where was Felix?

“ **Is that a fucking sword?!”** Pallardo screamed.

Oh, there he was! He probably wasn’t going to cut the bastard, but this was hysterical to witness.

Ashe looked around, slightly frantically, “Hey, we should get out of here..!”

Freckles was right! Nothing would ruin a beach day like getting arrested. Just because it was self-defense, does not mean that pulling a sword out would hold up well in court! The gang scrambled to gather their belongings, before high tailing it towards the beach, but not before Dimitri kicked Pallardo in the ribs on his way by.

He came to your side, though you were still clinging to Mercie, “(Y/N), are you okay?”

You nodded, “I’m alright,” You looked to your friends, who had effectively circled around you, were shielding you, “Thanks guys...”

Dimitri still looked really upset, glowering, keeping his eyes pointed down. He probably felt bad, thinking that leaving you alone caused that whole mess.

You slowly reached out to grab his hand again. You felt much safer staying close. “So... We’re just gonna act natural for the next few hours, hide the busted umbrella and sword, yeah?”

Annie frowned, “Aw, I wanted more sword cut watermelon...”

Felix’s brow furrowed, “Maybe next time...” Kid really wanted to see how well he could slice watermelon blind folded...

Sylvain seemed to read the mood, “Do you guys wanna play volleyball instead?”

Mercedes clasped her hands together, now that you were safe with Dima, “Oo~!”

Maybe a bit of it had been scary, but overall that had been such a fun day. It was so far away from where you all were now. Those warm days came and went. One of your friends had disappeared. And you all had to deal with that loss. Beach days didn’t feel right, if you weren’t all there together.

But now... He was back, at least, around you. Did this mean you were going to get new memories with him, or would he be gone when you did finally wake up?

You just didn’t know. All you could do was hope for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everytime I see fanart of Felix inexplicably slicing watermelon with a sword on a beach for his friends, my life expectancy increases by at least a year. That shit is fucking hilarious. Also you cannot tell me that the glasses that FEH Sylvain are holding are not full of Baja Blast. 
> 
> Anyway, Introvert VII is coming next week. For the love of god, wear a mask, stay safe, and stay cool.


	42. Introvert VII: Legend of the Third Wheel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kei, Kei, you darling you, asking me for another introvert!reader. Well of course, in the name of comedy, Dimitri, and being #relatableTM, I shall oblige. Byleth is chaperoning our dearies, and he just doesn't get it.

Myrddin came and went, and the joy of Dedue’s return carried a lot of people through it all. Gronder came and went, and the loss of Lord Fraldarius reminded everyone of the cost of their fight.

He wasn’t all there yet. That would be... Well that would be a lot to ask of a person who had just lost someone who was as important to him as Rodrigue was. But, Dimitri was still trying. Trying to get up every day. Trying to remember to eat. Trying to be with people. There were some days where he just couldn’t seem to do it. You would find him in the cathedral again, trembling under the weight of the damned, all by himself, just like he had before. You would take his hand, and offer him what few words of comfort that you could without stammering, “I’m not telling you that you can’t be sad right now. But this isn’t going to last forever. Okay?”

Sometimes all he could manage was a nod, just to let you know that he heard you. Other times he would look at you, and an almost wry grin would grace his face, “I’m looking forward to tomorrow being  _ almost _ bearable.” He could still muster a jest, in spite of the misery that kept clinging to him. 

You were so proud of him.

The task fell to you and his friends to get him on the path to socialize on equal and healthy footing again. Annette was quick to quietly let him know when he was scowling so he could correct himself, Ashe was always keeping an eye on him, ready to come up with a reason to get him away from any situation that was draining what little patience he had regained. And Dedue, bless him. They didn’t have to do anything to be able to enjoy each other's company. There was no need to put on false smiles, no need to make idle chatter, no saying that they were well when they were not.

Your relationship to him was similar. He had every right to be able to grieve. He didn’t need to pretend to be happy around you. It made him more relaxed. He had the time he needed to just lay in bed for a day or two, and think about all that he had survived, and how to be better from it. Still you occasionally did have to play guardian to him, and make sure that he was at least getting some sun between those days to himself.

You knelt next to his bed. He stared back up at you, waiting on you to explain why you were there, “You know how I’ve been lurking around you, so that people don’t think that  _ you’re  _ weird?”

He nodded quietly, though he made no motion to move further.

You went to brush some of his hair out of his good eye. Your fingers could thread through it pretty easily, which was a very promising sign that he had brushed it out himself during a bout of motivation. “Can you come for a walk with me so that people don’t think that  _ I’m _ weird?”

He sat up with a huff, shrugging off his old cloak which was now doubling as an extra blanket for him, “Do you see the irony in this..?”

He was referring to you, of all people, wanting to purposefully go out and about in the view of others. “Let's be real, if people like me and Bernie got our way, we’d never leave our rooms. But unfortunately... societal expectations, and the concept of needing sunlight to survive exist...”

The best part about the two of you being together, was that you didn’t have to speak at all. No mental energy expended, and time spent in good company. Thanks Sothis, it's really appreciated.

That didn’t mean that you two never chatted, in fact, “How is your leg doing?” He asked, taking you by the arm. He was letting you lean more of your weight into him

“I’m not limping any more. But, Manuela says I’m still not allowed to run for a while.”

“I’m sorry-”

You cut him off before he started to self deprecate, “Don’t be! Byleth isn’t allowed to ask me to run errands for him anymore, it’s been great!”

It was fucking awesome. You had more time to spend with your prince, who needed people like you more than ever.

Still, Prince Dimitri had some very difficult nights. The days were quite frightening for the enemy (there was an incident where an undercover imperial archer nearly shot Ingrid out of the sky during a training exercise, and His Highness lost it in a fit of rage for a good few hours,) but the night was definitely worse for him. If the workaholic happened to catch a wink of sleep in the evening, there was a sizable chance that the nightmares would descend upon him.

One came to him on one of those rare nights that you both happened to be staying in his room at the same time. Somewhat a gentleman again, he was insistent that the bed was yours to use, and he would take the floor. He snapped awake sometime around four in the morning with a cry of fear. It was your name.

You jolted up, “Wha-What? What?!” You blinked rapidly, adjusting to the dark. The sun hadn’t risen yet. You got a better look at him when he suddenly scrambled onto his knees, seizing you by the shoulders.

“(Y/N)...?” The look in his widened eye was that of mortal terror. His voice came out as a trembling, raspy whisper, shot after the scream he let out. His chest was heaving, as though he couldn’t breath. He was having a panic attack. His grip was tensing up on you slightly, “(Y/N)..!”

“I’m here,” Oh, you were wide awake now. You grabbed his wrists, gently tugging them off of you before he accidentally shattered your collarbone, “I’m right here...”

“(Y/N), I..!” He squeezed his eye shut, and you realized that now he was crying. He let you pry his fingers off of you, and in turn buried his face into your side.

“Okay, okay...” You took a deep breath, letting go of his hands so you could pat his head, in an attempt to offer him what little comfort you could, “Did you have a nightmare..?”

He nodded slowly, choking out what you thought was a sob, “You didn’t- you didn’t wake up..!”

“Dimitri...” From your magic fatigue. He had dreamt that you had died from it. He hadn’t registered you trying to get his attention, “Dimitri. Listen to me. I’m here. I’m okay. I woke up. And even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t blame you for it, okay? I was going to get back to the monastery in rough shape regardless of what happened to us out there...”

“I should have listened...” He echoed to himself, “I should have-”

You sighed, “I know you’re still working things out, Dimitri but, one day you’re going to learn that not everything is your fault.”  _ And that’ll be a really, really good day... _

You let him weep for a while. This was the only time he could really do so. You certainly weren’t going to fault him for it. “(Y/N)... thank you for being by my side.” He sniffled and collected himself as best he could, for someone who was seldom able to cry openly, “I know, such things drain you, but-“ 

“Dimitri... didn’t I tell you?” You were hoping it was still a bit too dark for him to see that you were blushing. “I never get that exhaustion when it’s just me and you.” 

You smiled at him as he finally managed to look up at you. “May I spend this day with you then?” He had been so desperate to see that expression, so many times...

“The whole day...? It might get boring...” You weren’t the best conversation partner in the world, afterall...

“If you do not tire of me, then it’s fair to say that I am never bored with you.”

Now there were whispers going around the monastery for a few days. Whispers that a certain quiet lady, and one particular prince were basically acting as though they were courting, holding hands and some such. Which was all well and good, and civil, but they were doing so **UNSUPERVISED.** And these whispers, these whispery whispers, had reached the ears of two specific men. One who’s personal ability was _ Guardian _ , which filled him with more wizened fatherly energy towards the young women of the military than he knew what to do with (Also the quiet young lady once accidentally said ‘Thanks Dad,’ to him and he decided to take that to heart despite her crippling panic and embarrassment at the situation,) and one who considered the particular prince to be like his own child, having practically raised the boy.

Now these men were terrified. They knew “their kids” were upstanding, proper youngsters. But these were also extremely difficult, stressful times, and who knows what ideas could be put in their heads to relieve such tension they may be carrying! The men eventually confessed their concerns over the youths to each other, and then they began to formulate a plan...

Gilbert and Seteth told Byleth to follow Prince Dimitri and Lady (Y/N) around, chaperone them, and make sure that they were “Leaving room for the Goddess,”

And when Byleth asked what that meant, they looked at him like he had seven heads. “Just... Make certain that they do not touch each other.” Seteth instructed. No one wanted a scandal at the moment.

Everything that followed that day would have been a thousand or so times less awkward if The Professor had just told the pair that he was chaperoning them. Instead, he did not do that, and he turned himself into the most awkwardly intrusive third wheel that he could have been.

The confusion began when the pair entered the library. Dimitri trailed after you like a shadow, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. To start your day, you were just going to sit together while you conducted research. It worked out well for the both of you. If you both looked busy, people would be less likely to approach either of you. The only thing you were aware of being in your way, was one of the books you needed was too high up on the shelf for you. That shouldn’t have been too much of a problem, you had His Highness with you after all!

“Dimitri?” You were making a concerted effort to be on a first name basis with him, because it made him feel much more comfortable. Honestly it was the least you could do, “Can you give me a boost?”

“Of co-”

“No. No, he cannot.” Byleth appeared with his arms crossed, though his expression was rather blank at the moment. Then again, he was frowning a bit, and his tone was... annoyed?

“Well, I mean... Objectively, I  _ can _ lift her up. Quite easily.” Dimitri loosely gestured to you. The man could lift a horse. You’d seen him do so plenty of times. Comparatively, you were nothing.

“Well yes, but actually no.”

“Professor, I need that book,” You really hadn’t had much of a chance to chat with Byleth since you went berserk on him, and then went into two different comas. You were almost nervous to hold this conversation, given how your most recent interactions went... “For work...”

You could practically hear the gears turning in the commander's head. Finally he turned to face Dimitri, “Lift me up, I’ll get it.”

The Prince looked back and forth, from him to you, more confused than he needed to be this early in the morning, especially after waking up the way that he did.

You gave a half-hearted shrug, “Fine, I guess?” Though this was wholly unnecessary, either way you would get your book. “Its  _ Documentation of Illness Through the Reign of Ionius III _ ,”

Byleth’s face may have actually twisted in disgust from how genuinely boring that sounded. But someone had to look through and see if it had any useful information in it... Without so much as a grunt in exertion, Dimitri grabbed The Professor by the legs and hoisted him up. When he came back down, he promptly handed you your book.

“Thank you, Professor.” You gently tugged on Dimitri’s cape, bidding him to follow you to a table for you to work at. Once you settled in across from each other, you realized Byleth had taken up the seat next to you. “Do you need anything else..?”

“No, I do not.”

“Hm,” You slid a copy of  _ Loog and the Maiden of Wind _ to The Prince, so that he could have something to do. He smiled down at it, fond memories coming to him. Glenn used to read it to him and Felix...

Byleth regretted saying he didn’t need anything. He was going to be stuck here doing nothing, for however long this would take. But, he had been told to make sure they were leaving room for the goddess, and the table separating them seemed to be doing that for now... So he thought about his  _ good pal _ down in Abyss who often told him how  _ adorable  _ he was to pass time.

Your eyes often drifted between the book, and the man next to you. You felt a little bad, since you hadn’t really counted on him being included, thus you had nothing to entertain him with. Didn’t he understand how weird it was for him to be there during this private time with His Highness. Didn’t he know that all the mental energy you were going to need to direct to him was going to tucker you out?

You had gotten a good chunk into that hellishly large tome when lunchtime rolled around. You and Dimitri got up from the table without a word, seeing that The Professor more or less zoned out. You moseyed on your merry way, only to practically jump into Dimitri with a yelp when you were half way down the hall. Somehow, Byleth had appeared suddenly and ended up walking at your side! “Wha-! How-?!”

“Where are you two going?” He asked as though absolutely nothing was wrong, and that he had not just frightened the ever-loving hell out of you.

Dimitri kept you steady and standing as your heart had attempted to abandon ship in fear, “To eat, Professor.”

“Okay. I’m coming with you.”

You were not tired or angry enough to be confrontational, and the Prince was terrified of the idea of snapping at people, given how he had been behaving until very recently, so you just rolled with it as best you could. If Dimitri was your shadow, then Byleth was his. He walked all the way down to the Dining Hall with you, and went so far as to take a seat between the two of you, instead of across from you.

“Professor... What are you doing?” Evidently, The Prince had had enough of this strange behavior.

“I’m making sure that you two are leaving room for the Goddess,”

You almost fucking choked. “EXCUSE ME?!” His tone had been so deadpan- so matter of fact- so devoid of any type of humor that you thought you were having a stroke.

“Oh, you’re yelling again. It’s still odd to see you do that.”

Dimitri crushed the fork he was holding in his hands. By some miracle, that was the most extreme part of his reaction. “... Professor, do you know what that phrase means..?”

“It means-” Shit. No one had actually explained what that meant outside of, “- you two need to stop touching each other-” Because???? “- People are getting the wrong idea.” Yeah, that seemed like a sufficient ‘catch-all’ statement.

If you weren’t overheating, you would have throttled him. You were seeing spots. You were about to faint, “Uh-um-”

As gently as he was able, Dimitri pushed Byleth, chair and all, out of the way, so that he could catch you as you slumped out of your seat. “Professor, you can’t say such a thing to her,” He was his own lightly dusted shade of red, “You are well aware of how anxious she can get.”

Normally such a statement would induce your nervous laughter, but as Dimitri tried to coax you back into a state of consciousness, all you could comprehend was the horrifying idea that there were people out there THINKING THINGS about YOU, and that the implications were NOT necessarily WHOLESOME. You didn’t like the idea of the latest gossip being about you at all!

The entire day proceeded similarly. You and Prince Dimitri would try to do something or go somewhere, and Byleth would follow, being incredibly distracting, purposefully, or accidentally each time, continually spouting that you needed to keep apart which was too embarrassing a statement for you due to what it implied. Mercifully, the haggering day of being pursued by the Professor was nearly at its end. Dimitri didn’t zap your energy away from you. Byleth did. He had no idea that he had wrenched it away from you, like a thief stealing sweets from Lysithea. It happened, though there was considerable effort to prevent it, and a lot of explosions would result from this if the situation was not rectified as soon as possible. It was almost over... Almost. As long as you didn’t hear  _ that phrase _ again.

The Professor had followed you, all the way to the Prince’s door. “Goodnight, you two. And remember to lea-”

“ **-Do Not Finish That Sentence.** ” Dimitri almost hissed. He took a long deep breath, and cleared his throat before anyone could point out how sinister his voice just was, “I will be sleeping on the floor. There is no cause for concern.”

“Alright.” Byleth had had enough of these two for the day, almost getting close to holding hands and stuff, and sharing snacks together. If he understood his own emotions a little bit more, maybe he would have realized the inklings of jealousy. Ugh. He was going right down to Abyss to go hang out with the person that he almost usually did that stuff with!

And the motherfucker turned and left! Just like that! Holy shit! Was that really all it took?! Saying, ‘nah we aren’t gonna do anything,’ LIKE, THAT SHIT WORKED??? Un-fucking-believable. You were at a loss for words. You just silently walked into the room, and flopped face first down on the bed. You didn’t scream into the pillow somehow.

The bed shifted as Dimitri’s weight was added to it, “We can always try again tomorrow...” How very optimistic of him!

Try again to have a quiet day to yourselves, he meant. Sure you could... “We could always hide in here, but Byleth has that weird sixth sense, where he knows where we all are at all times.”

“Oh, you find that odd as well?”

“It’s so weird...”

“... I agree.

You both had a sinking feeling that Gilbert had something to do with this, though neither of you suspected Seteth yet. Still you resolved to go clear up this matter with him in person the next day, and by that you meant that you were going to hide behind Dimitri while he discussed it with Gilbert. He would do the talking, and you would do the soothing.

Meanwhile, down in Abyss, Byleth was chatting with Yuri about his day over a cup of tea. Or he would have been, if the lilac haired man could reach the end of his four minute long fit of laughter.

When he finally calmed down, Yuri explained to him what the phrase, ‘Leave room for the Goddess,’ actually meant. TLDL, “No fucking allowed.” The next morning, you were slipped a note from Byleth by one of the knights in the dining hall.

_ Dear (Y/N), _

_ My Bad. _

_ Sincerely Yours, _

_ General Byleth Eisner _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn Byleth, leave those poor youngsters alone! Thank you for requesting Kei, it's been a pleasure as always.
> 
> Welp, thats all my active requests for the moment! Uni is starting up again next week, but all of my course work is digital. That means I'll still have a good deal of free time, if anyone does choose to call upon me for a request once more! And if no one does, welp, sometimes it do be like that, don't it?
> 
> Stay safe out there, gamers.


	43. A Family Matter II: Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, here’s something I didn’t see coming. Though I honestly consider A Family Matter to be one of my best works, I didn’t think anyone would ask for a follow up to it, and yet here we are! Mar (the anon) has ever so graciously called upon me to give a continuation. And so, it will be happily done.

_ “Fe~!” (Y/N) always cheered when she saw her brothers again. She loved them to the moon and back. Felix had finally arrived at the palace. He and Father were making a separate journey, traveling after His big brother, and little sister, “Guess what! Guess what!” _

_ “What?” He held his ground as (Y/N) slammed into him. She could never pack as much force behind anything as his friends could. _

_ “You’re gonna score a fencing match for me and Dima!” She let him go, and jumped a bit with each step, leading her older brother to the courtyard where the young prince was waiting for them, “If I win, I get to marry him!” _

_ “What happens if you lose?” _

_ “Then he gets to marry me!” _

_ Felix was going to point out that that was the same thing, either way. _

_ “Now hold on a minute there, little missy,” In a flash, the little girl had been swept off her feet, “Maybe you should ask the old man if he’s okay with that first. You’re a bit too young, don’t you think?” _

_ “Glenn!” She smiled much like she had when she saw Felix, throwing her arms around him. _

_ And Glenn smiled back. _

_ People seemed to forget that about him, now that he was gone. Glenn was usually a grouch. He didn’t smile much. But he was always much more cheerful around the kids, especially his little siblings. Felix did everything he could to remember that smile, but as the years passed by, the rest of Glenn’s face faded from his memory.  _

Felix Hugo Fraldarius woke up in a cold sweat. He groaned, and wiped his face. He would have rather had a nightmare, than see that memory again. His only solace seemed to be that he woke up before he saw  _ that thing _ . Well, it wasn’t the vile creature it would grow to be, but just seeing him before all this, knowing what he would become made him feel ill. How long ago was that day? If he was twenty-three now... Fourteen years? And even after all this shit, (Y/N) still hadn’t changed her mind about her feelings on The Boar Prince. Part of him found it revolting. The other part of him was filled with a worry that he was struggling to mask every single day. One person from the family dying for that monster was enough, wasn’t it? He couldn’t lose you too. He couldn’t. But he knew damn well that you would take a stab wound to the heart for that thing. You and the old man... That damned old man...

The Boar had recovered from the poison, more or less, in no small part to Felix’s baby sister’s twenty four hour bedside manner. The lordling had refused to thank him for taking that blade that was meant for him, now that he was up and well enough to handle the Myrddin campaign. It wasn’t anyone else's business whether he lived or died, and the worry that that rat bastard’s actions had caused had put far too many people on edge to be a net positive. That thing wasn’t worth thanking. Because _ it wasn’t Dima _ and if he had to explain that to another person, he was going to blow a gasket-

The Boar’s lap dog was back as well. Felix wasn’t going to admit it, but it was quite the relief. Dedue was a strong fighter, and in those moments where he proved capable of thinking for himself, he was a good man. With any luck, he would be doing that more in the near future, more power to him.

Gronder was when everything took a nosedive. They decidedly won that battle, that was undeniable at the least, but the field was so chaotic and bloody, that it may not have been directly apparent to someone who wasn’t in the field. Five years of non-stop fighting on the Fraldarius Border, and Felix still hadn’t seen anything like this before.

The Professor had ordered a retreat to the Great Bridge, creating a sinking feeling in the lordling’s gut. Damn it all, he couldn’t leave yet! They had won the battle, so why the hell were they retreating? Where was the Professor who just ordered this? Where was that goddess forsaken monster who led this charge? And where the hell was his-

“Felix!” You yelled from across the stream. Not who he was looking for, but still a relief to see. You were on horseback, crossing the wooden bridge to get to your brother faster. He wasn’t sure where you had gotten a mount - you weren’t cavalry. Actually, you weren’t a combatant at all. What the fuck were you doing out here, and who’s horse did you steal?!

He sprinted halfway to meet you. No sense in hiding his worry, now that his troops were gone to join the retreat, “Get out of here! Have you lost your mind?!”

Your face scrunched up as he scolded you, but it couldn’t hide your own nervous expression. He took the hand you extended down to him, helping him onto the horse. Clearly you had come looking for him in a rush, “I can’t find Father anywhere..!” You scanned the horizon, before rearing the steed to turn around, back towards the safety of the Kingdom Army, not having seen what you were looking for.

Shit. This wasn’t good. It would have been concerning enough if just one of them was unaccounted for, but all three of them? Something wasn’t right... He looked up into the sky, storm clouds billowing in from the west. He doubted that they were retreating just because of the weather. In the midst of the fading light, he saw the shape of a pegasus descending towards them.

“Ingrid!” You hailed her, speeding up to keep pace with her as the lady knight drew closer, “Could you see anything from up there?”

The knight nodded, but her expression was grim, “I think I saw the Professor near some other medics,”

“You think, or you know?” He cut in, making his presence more obvious. She was going to glare at him, not appreciating his snide tone, but you answered her yourself,

“What about my father, and His Highness?”

Ingrid’s mouth opened for a moment, but she couldn’t seem to find the right words. She had absolutely seen something from up there, and whatever it was had left her shaken, no matter how much she was trying to hide it, “I don’t know for certain, but I think the medics are treating them-”

Your brother had expected you to press for further information, a ‘treated for what?’ maybe, but instead you hissed out a, “Shit..!” You shook your head, before urging the horse into a gallop, “Thank you, Ingrid!” Your manners never failed you, no matter how concerned you were.

You were leading the horse through the forming defensive line, through the retreating forces that were marching, as fast as you could to where you reckoned the medics were treating officers. They were confined to carriages, emergency mobile infirmaries, caring for any salvageable major injuries. Felix scanned the carts as they moved by. By the looks of it, any magic user present was at work.

“Gusta-” You corrected yourself quickly, “Gilbert!” You reigned the horse into a light trot as you spotted the old knight.

You shoved the reins into your brother’s hands, leaping off the horse. The man you approached looked pale, sick with worry. Felix flagged down another soldier to take the horse, jumping off after you. He hated this feeling in his chest. How many battles had he survived up until now? Hundreds maybe. So why did he feel uneasy now, after a decisive victory of all things?

“Lady (Y/N)...”

Felix had seen the look on the man’s face before. He couldn’t remember whose face it was though. It might have been Gustave. It might have been his old man. It didn’t matter. He knew a grief stricken expression when he saw it.

“Have you seen our father anywhere?” Your tone was getting exasperated. How many times had you asked? How many different people had given you the same confused, or even concerned answer? 

He didn’t respond immediately. Felix continued to look around. His chest was feeling tight. Ingrid had flown down to oversee the march. He spotted Sylvain ferrying more wounded in and out of the medic’s care. Annette had been co-opted to assist in magic healing. They had passed Dedue and Ashe on the way in - they were leading the defense. 

“... Gustave...” Your voice was grave, yet shaking. You had noticed the expression too, “Where is he..?”

Felix found The Boar. He had looked too carefully into one of the medic wagons. The Beast was upright, Mercedes wiping a genuinely terrifying amount of blood from his shoulder. That was a deep cut across his back, to be sure, but at least he was conscious. Felix knew when he locked eyes with the boar by mistake. He didn’t think the bastard had it in him, and yet, there were tears going down his face.

“He’s gone, my lady...”

Your legs gave out from underneath you, landing you in the mud on your knees. You were going to scream, but you had clamped your hands over your own mouth, silencing your cry of grief.

He should have gone to comfort you. His poor baby sister had just lost another family member... But as he half-consciously stumbled to the side of the road, it hit him like a ton of bricks -  _ The old man is dead. _

He wiped at his eyes furiously, trying to ignore the sudden stinging in them as he wretched out the contents of his stomach. Hardtack and black coffee, which tasted absolutely dreadful to begin with, somehow tasted worse the second time around. Coupled with the bile, it made his throat burn. At some point he managed to stop vomiting, but it was replaced by coughing. Or maybe it was sobbing. He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t actually cried since Glenn-

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Someone had thought to hold back the loose strands of his hair that had fallen out of its bun throughout the battle. The Professor. “Hey...”

“Fuck...” He wanted to say ‘fuck off,’ He wanted to be alone, but to be honest, Byleth was keeping him standing. He’d rather not join you in the mud that he had just emptied his stomach into at the moment. He needed to stay standing. He needed answers. “How..?”

And in that almost irritatingly calm voice of his, the man explained that they were attacked by that damn girl who was out for revenge. How Rodrigue had leapt in front of the injured prince. The bitch’s body was rotting on the field as they spoke. Good. She deserved it for what she did to his fa-

He didn’t always get along with his old man. How he told him about Glenn had broken something in Felix. It had fractured their relationship, maybe irreparably. But Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius, the Shield of Faerghus, was still his father. They still cared about each other, and he didn’t get to say goodbye. He lost another person that he didn’t get to say goodbye to! It really was just you, him, and mother now... Goddess, who was going to tell mother?

He was allowed to breath again, after a good while. He continued to aggressively scrub the tears away. He needed to go make sure you were alright. He finally managed to muster the strength to straighten back up, leaning slightly on Byleth. His legs felt so weak.

You had already gotten back to your feet, it seemed. Good thing he had already thrown up, because Felix had found you sobbing into Dimitri, who seemed to have crawled his way away from the medics. What right did he have to be there for you?! Who the fuck did that son of a bitch think he was, gently swaying you back and forth like Glenn used to do?! His own father died for the bastard. He just wanted to know why... Why was this happening to him again?!

The Boar had been pulled away again by Mercedes and the Professor. The son of a bitch was still bleeding, and still went to go check on you - fucking dumb ass bastard - leaving him to go keep you on your feet, even though he could barely stand himself.

“Felix... What are we gonna tell mama..?”  _ Mama. _ Your voice sounded so small, so defeated. You hadn’t noticed the slip up in your formality.

Your big brother didn’t have an answer for you. At the very least you two were still on the same page.

The journey back to the monastery was awful. Another exercise in misery. People were hesitant to offer their condolences to either of you yet. The body was barely cold. Neither of you could stomach riding back with it. The old man wouldn’t have been pleased with this. If the foot soldier's bodies weren’t going to get a special burial set aside, then he wouldn’t have wanted one either. They never got Glenn’s body back, just the armor and the sword. It was in all fairness, but Gustave had insisted otherwise. He had been thinking of Mother, not being able to give a proper rite to another loved one. Felix hated it with a passion when that deadbeat who abandoned his wife and Annie was right, or considerate about anything.

Ingrid and Sylvain had been through this shitty song and dance with the Fraldarius family before. They stayed, and offered their quiet comfort and pity. A family of soldiers like yours didn’t want or need overdramatic sympathy. Ingrid had taken you on the pegasus, just to get you back to the monastery sooner so you could lay down, and sob in peace before you had to send a letter back to Fraldarius territory. 

Felix was riding back with Sylvain, who knew better than to make any jokes at the moment. No amount of attempted levity was going to change the fact that these stupid tears wouldn’t fucking stop already. Felix rested his head on the back of Sylvain’s armor, which was not comfortable at all, but was a thousand times more bearable than any of the soldiers being able to see him outwardly grieve. The future Margrave didn’t mind at all, Felix always used to go crying to him, afterall.

The Shield of Faerghus was temporarily buried in the monastery cemetery, right by the grave of Captain Jeralt. Byleth had rushed back to make arrangements for the grave, to spare the next of kin further hardship.

Ingrid and Sylvain stood by with you grieving siblings, even as the rain fell. They even fetched cloaks for you so you didn’t have to interrupt your vigil. They shooed away anyone who was pestering you. Strangers were coming to the grave to pay respects to one of their leaders, people who had served under the old man came to offer their condolences. Felix could only nod in acknowledgement to most of them. If he opened his mouth he would have sounded similar to you, with your cracking voice offering broken ‘thank you’s for their pity.

People Felix considered to be friends came by too. Ashe couldn't seem to muster a smile, though he was usually so upbeat. Still he dutifully approached you, and he handed you a book. “I... I know that this story means a lot to your family, so I thought...”

Felix leaned down over your shoulder,  _ Loog and the Maiden of Wind. _ Felix read it to you. Glenn read it to him. Father had read it to him. It was a family favorite. It was familiar and comforting.

You sniffled slightly, “Thank you I... Thanks.” You pulled the tome into your chest, under your cloak and out of the rain.

“Appreciated,” Felix murmured. It was the best he could do.

Dedue didn’t necessarily address either of you, he simply laid some white lilies down on the grave, and then closed his eyes. It was a quiet way to pay respects. The old man would have preferred more gestures like this. Before he departed, he locked eyes with Felix, “If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask.”

Felix nodded. Dedue wasn’t a bad person to be stuck around. Not at all.

Annette and Mercedes had the most hands on approach to their pity. They brought warm drinks for the two of you. 

Annie gave Felix some hot chocolate. He wasn’t a fan of sweets, but it felt nice to hold the mug in his hands. It felt even better when Annette took him by the arm, just letting him know that she was there for him.

Mercedes had put her arms around you, letting her extreme big sister energy wash over you, and everyone in the cemetery.

“How is His Highness..?” You asked, sinking into the comforting grasp.

“He’ll be okay, so long as he gets some rest.” She pet your hair, “And that goes for you as well.”

“She’s right,” Your brother told you before you could protest, “Go lay down, I’ll take care of things here.”

“But Fe-”

“No ‘buts,’” He gave you a pat on the shoulder, urging you to rest after all this miserable shit.

He had sent everyone away, as the number of mourners continued to dwindle, as night fell, and the rain fell harder. He wanted to be by himself for a little while. He wanted to be alone. All alone. It would help him think more clearly. Help him process what the old man was thinking. Help him process why he had died...

He said nothing, when the shadow of a man in blue came to the grave, laying a sword down next to the flowers Dedue had left. 

That shade tried to look at him, but the lordling kept his head down.“Felix...” His voice was hoarse, broken. He didn’t need to make eye contact to know that The Prince had still been crying, for hours it seemed, possibly the whole trip back to the monastery, “I-”

“Be quiet.” He grumbled back, “Apologizing isn’t going to bring him back.” Apologies couldn’t fix this. Even if they weren’t empty, they changed nothing.

“No but...” He coughed up his own sob, “It... It should have been me-“

All of Felix’s anger and confusion he had been wrestling with boiled to the surface all at once, “Shut your damn mouth!” No, no, no! No it should not have been him! “Will you just shut the hell up!?”

“Felix, I-“

“ **I don’t want to hear it!** ” He practically roared, “The old man made the choice himself... So don’t you dare make it in vain, you bastard!” He hadn’t called him a boar... Then again, he wasn’t talking to an animal at the moment. He was addressing a man, albeit angrily, that was consumed by grief and guilt. He was talking to  _ Dima... _ The Dimitri that blamed himself for everyone who had died. The Dimitri who had lost everything and everyone, and was trying desperately to relate to him. The tragically empathetic Dimitri he remembered.

“He- he shouldn’t have-”

**“For fuck’s sake!”** Felix grabbed Dimitri by the shoulders, restraining himself from instead seizing him by the throat and absolutely throttling him, “He wanted you to live!” He was practically screaming in his face, “And you are going to live, because I am not losing another person for your sake!” He yanked the tall bastard down before he could stammer out more broken apologies and wishes for his own demise, “You are going to live so my baby sister never has to cry herself to sleep again -  **are we clear?!** ”

“(Y/N)-”

“-Is completely devastated right now! Now answer me!”

“I have to live..?” The Prince echoed as though he didn’t understand.

“I’m not asking you to survive, I’m telling you.” Regrettably, they finally made eye contact, and he realized he wasn’t able to hide behind his anger anymore., “Dimitri... I mean it... You need to finish this war. You need to take the throne. And you need to clean this mess up.” Felix hopelessly gestured to the grave, and the monastery, and the entire goddess forsaken continent that they were stuck on. “And to do that, you have to get out of this alive...”

“I know that... I know, but Felix,” The shadow of a man slumped lower and lower until his head landed on the lordlings shoulder, “It  **hurts.** It hurts so much...”

“I know it does...” It hurt to be the one who survived. It hurt to be the one everyone looked to to fix everything. It hurt to be the one that people would believe in so much that they would, and did die. It hurt to wonder every single day if things would have been different if someone else had died instead. It hurt to hold that weight on your own shoulders. That was too much pressure for anyone. Nevermind someone who had been so haunted by death for so long. He didn’t bother with the groan of disgust he normally would have let out as he pulled his oldest friend into a hug. They both needed a bit of grounding and human contact, no matter how much Felix normally loathed it, “But you aren’t bearing it alone anymore...”

It had been a long, long, long time since either of them had intentionally been that close with the other, but they clearly needed it to work through everything that had happened to them. 

When they both finally collected themselves enough to stand without leaning on the other, Felix began to grumble again, “Now get out of my face, and go tell (Y/N) you’re okay, she’s worried sick about you.”

“Right...” Dimitri apparently found the ground to be very much worth his attention, with his gaze pointed down like that, “I imagine she’s not doing well at the moment.”

“No shit, so don’t make it worse.” After all this shit, his sister still fucking adored this mess of a man. All Felix could do was make sure it worked out happily... “I swear, if you do anything to upset her any more than she already is, I’m going to gut you like a fish.”

“Should I not wait until tomorrow?”

“Did you not hear what I just said? Get out of here!” The last thing he needed was this man sticking around long enough to realize that his eyes were reddened from all the tears he had just shed in dead silence.

“If you insist...” As he turned to walk away, Dimitri looked over his shoulder before he disappeared into the rain and the night, “But... Thank you, Felix. I’m... I’m still so, so sorry... Even so, thank you...”

“I don’t want you worrying, so I’ll take care of both of them.” Felix looked down at his father’s grave. He wasn’t going to be haunted by this loss. He would keep moving forward, no matter what, “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought I'd be asked for a follow-up for legit one of my favorite pieces - thanks Mar, I hope this is what you were looking for! School has officially started back up, but so far its been a bit of a wash, if I'm going to be perfectly honest ^_^o  
> Oh well, oh well. I've got three requests in the works, so I'll hop right to it! 
> 
> Ah, also... I've had it asked of me a few times recently, so to reiterate: I do works by request, if y'all want anything just drop a comment telling me what you are looking for. I'll let you know if it's in my range of ability, and if I feel I need it, I'll ask some clarifying questions!
> 
> That's about all from me for this week. Okie dokie, catch y'all later! Stay safe!


	44. Vitriolic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, two angst chapters in a row? Are you poor things having a rough time out there? Need some catharsis? Well, here’s what I’ve got for ya, Anime_hotty_lover_24!

It was almost surprising, not seeing them together. Everyone stationed at the monastery had been under the impression that Lady (Y/N) had enjoyed some sort of special favoritism from His Highness. Whereas everyone else would get hissed at for coming in a ten foot radius of him, the lady had been spotted numerous times, leaned up against him, making one-sided idle chatter to him, and those who had been watching the most carefully may have even seen him smile in her direction as she toiled away at the research she brought with her. That last one was a big maybe. Given the present disposition of the prince, it didn’t seem likely... But it was still a nice thought, wasn’t it? That such a broken, bitter, frightening man had a soft spot for such a sweet girl?

So, when Prince Dimitri’s solitude became more recognizable than when there was the young woman by his side, people were a little bit confused. Lady (Y/N) was fine-ish. Some had seen her earlier that day. Granted, she seemed a bit more haggard than usual, but other than that, there was no apparent reason for her to not be with His Highness.

It was all his fault, truly. He had defied all expectations, and he had lashed out at the only person he had let in... He had said such awful things to her, and for what? The dead had still berated him just as much, if not more than they already did, and yet he had pushed away the only person who was beginning to understand the toll all this took on him, the only person he was allowing to help him in the slightest.

“ **_Get rid of her, Your Highness.”_ ** The nicer voices practically screamed at him. They wanted her to go away, they found that she was a distraction from them. When The Prince worried after the woman, when he could not find her after a battle, the dead realized it was slowing his pursuit of the enemy. **“** **_What about us, Your Highness? Stop ignoring us Your Highness! Tell her to go away, Your Highness!_ ** “

“ **_Please my little prince, you need to focus,”_ ** His step mother would beg him. He knew she was there, behind him. But he never would turn to look. He was always so afraid that specter would look different from how he remembered her.  **_“Please, dear boy...”_ ** Those were the kinder ghosts.

There were others, and their voices had been getting so vicious in (Y/N)’s direction, he hardly recognized them as people he once held dear - and this was after hearing their calls for The Emperor’s head. In his opinion, her presence was harmless at the very worst. He was perfectly capable of ignoring her most of the time she was there. And even when she called him to attention, it was usually related to keeping his body functioning, or was a report from the medical staff. Both were important to his fight. But those voices were so upset with that small fraction where she would say something to him that would almost make him smile, and his opinion meant nothing in the larger scheme of his duty to them. Up until recently, they berated him when he became distracted. They accused him of laziness, and not caring enough about them.

**_“Kill her.”_ ** He almost jumped at the sound in his head. His father’s voice. All he had been doing was watching over her as she took a nap at his side in the cathedral before her next shift in the infirmary. It was nothing new, and yet,  **_“Just kill her already.”_ **

_ “Why..?” _ He asked, not even exceeding a whisper. The Lady was resting, and this would hardly be something good to wake up to. His heart was racing suddenly, as though he was on the field of battle. A sudden spike of adrenaline that he was not ready for.

**_“She is a waste of time. Now get rid of her.”_ **

This was a conversation they had had before. And he said no, and it had sent him reeling for weeks and weeks and weeks.

By some stroke of divine providence and luck, (Y/N) stirred with a yawn, blinking at the hole in the cathedral ceiling, seeing where the sun was in the sky. “Ah, its about time for my shift...” She got to her feet and stretched, “I’ll see you later, I guess...” She gave his shoulder a pat, and continued on her merry way, completely oblivious to the growing chorus of voices in his mind calling for her to be gutted.

He didn’t move a muscle. If he turned to her, instinct would take over, and he would have skewered her, just like he did in battle when the voices called for the death of those faceless imperials he felled by the hundreds.

**_“No more of this, boy.”_ ** His late majesty growled. The Prince swore that he could feel a cold hand on his shoulder, but there was nothing there. **_“Keep away, or kill her.”_ **

There was no question in how to proceed. He would find a way to drive her away from him, unable to even consider the alternative thought of raising a hand against such a gentle soul. A gentle soul who had given up so much, and done nearly everything he had ever asked of her. _Fetch these supplies. Tend to my wounds. Sleep with me._

He was a slave to the whims of the departed, and nothing more. This was for their sake, and her safety.

She returned to him the next morning, after her shift caring for his army, and a good night's rest, with the warmth and comfort not unlike the first day of spring in Faerghus, and a smile on her face, “Good morning, Dimitri~!”

“Leave me be.” He was going to miss being addressed by name in such a happy voice... He had hoped beyond hope that she would get the hint before the anxiety building in his chest over this made him get more venomous. “I don’t want you here.”

“Sorry..?” She cocked her head, clearly confused. He didn’t always acknowledge her, but he hadn’t ever really said anything like that to her in that half-hiss. 

“Get away from me..!” Perhaps if he had snapped at her, this would be over more quickly. His fists clenched up as she jumped, slightly startled.

Her smile was long gone now, her expression falling into a worried frown, “Have I done something wrong..?”

It was troubling that she had immediately blamed herself for his awful attitude. This wasn’t her fault. Nevertheless, this had to be done, “Just leave!”

“But I-”

“ **You useless fool!** ” He grabbed her by the shoulders, thinking that would be more than enough of an action to strike fear into her heart. Such a threat should have been enough. It was plenty. She knew his strength, after all. And yet, something in him seemed to snap, and the vitriolic tirade began. He echoed every single insult the departed had ever levied against her, growling and snarling in her face, as he held her in his inescapable grasp. **She was pathetically weak. Spineless and unable to defend herself. She was beyond lazy, tiring so easily. The only use he had for her was her body, and unless she intended on undressing before him on the spot he had no use for her at all.** Above all, “You mean  **nothing to me!”**

She stared up at him with wide eyes, trembling in place. As her terrified eyes began to water, she sobbed out a “Please let me go..!” It was apparent she didn’t have the slightest clue where this could have been coming from. She had been nothing but dutiful and loyal to him, all this time.

The sheer horror of what he had said had not dawned on him fully yet, but the fear in her gaze did. His own hands shook slightly, he noticed, as he released her. She hadn’t seen it, she had stumbled backwards and away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. He could only pray he hadn’t injured her. He didn’t know how to gauge how much force he could use against someone so...  _ fragile _ . “Get out of here...”

She stood silently, shaking like a leaf, save for the few deep breaths she was taking to calm herself. He took one step in her direction, and it was enough to make her cry out in fear, turn on her heels, and run back to the monastery.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to move towards her to do. What qualified as clarity for him returned shortly after, once his own hands stopped trembling. That should have satisfied the dead well enough, right? His sweet (Y/N) would never be close enough to bear their ire ever again, because he screamed awful things to her that he did not mean.

As stated before, her absence from his side was clearly his fault, plain and simple. He had claimed her pacifism was personal weakness, though she had killed a man protecting him. He had claimed her constant exhaustion was laziness, when he knew damn well how overworked she was. And he had shattered those sweet affections she had offered him, as undeserving as he was of them to begin with, reducing her to nothing more than an object to satiate him. He could not have been more vile if he had tried a second time.

All this grief for nothing. The dead did not idle down. No matter how many imperial raids he fought off, no matter how far he pressed into the southern and western fronts, no matter how alone he became. The blood on his hands continued to soak his skin, but the voices never quieted, and the throbbing in his skull never dulled.

(Y/N) used to quietly use magic on him, alleviating the pain for a short while, but for obvious reasons he had not seen her. Anytime they were needed in the same space, there was some excuse preventing her from appearing. He did hear a good deal about her, however. Not much of it was reassuring.

He heard nuns come in and offer prayers, for the dear healer who was running herself ragged. They suspected she hadn’t been sleeping, putting her full effort and time into tending to the wounded. “Our Lady (Y/N)... All she seems to do is work!” 

“She can’t keep burning the candle at both ends like this. She looks ghastly...”

They chattered, “Poor dear needs to rest, or she’ll drop before long...”

Such talk boded poorly.

“Dear Goddess,” Mercedes came in another day, always praying, that one... He never minded her, and under better circumstances, he would have prayed for her ability to find happiness and get away from the dastard of an adoptive father she was stuck with for so long, “Please let (Y/N)’s strength return to her. Please, send us something to convince her to eat again, and watch over her in her recovery.”

_ Recovery? _ What did she have to recover from? He turned over his shoulder, a dagger-like stare in the woman’s direction.

“Oh, Dimitri, you’re still here...” 

He was never anywhere else, unless he absolutely needed to sleep, then he was in his room. “What happened to (Y/N)..?” Whatever it was, he knew, it was all his fault.

“You haven’t heard?” Mercedes gasped, “She collapsed yesterday, and she’s been refusing food since she woke up!”

_ Oh no. _ This was all his fault. This was all his fault. This was all his fault. If he had just nicely asked her to give him some space, she would have listened to him. She always listened to him. If he had just told her that he wanted to be alone- Instead he screamed at her, and berated her for nothing. Evidently, she had taken such abusive words to heart, and she had tried to work herself to death to prove him wrong. _ Oh no, no, no, no! _

He bolted past Mercedes without another word. (Y/N) had been avoiding him, so it would stand to reason that she would not be recovering in his room. She would still be in the infirmary then. He received more than a few puzzled looks as he stormed through the halls in a dead sprint. Not only was it odd to see him outside to the cathedral, but to see him in a rush like this... He slowed his pace as he made it to the hallway. She was quite attuned to his presence, she knew the sounds of his armor when he moved with purpose. He didn’t want to send her into a panic before he could even see her condition.

He crept toward the doorway. He had learned how to move in silence, if the situation ever called for it. It made picking off imperials easier, when he was alone. 

He saw the Professor seated next to one of the beds, worry apparent on his normally neutral face. “(Y/N)...” He murmured down to the lump of blankets, “The others are getting worried...”

“That's hardly necessary...” Her voice replied, softly, but dry. The pile of cloth shifted, likely the young lady burying herself further into the sheets.

“Why haven’t you been eating?”

“Someone more useful than me needs those rations, Professor...”

The former teacher’s brow furrowed as his concern grew, “Where is this coming from?”

“... I don’t like these questions.” The bundle shifted more, and (Y/N) turned over. Dimitri ducked out of the doorway. He had seen enough quite enough.

He didn’t mean for this to happen to her. He just wanted to keep her away from him, not make her self-destruct like this! She was usually so willful, had his words really cut so deeply? Perhaps he had just been the final straw that cracked her resolve. The medics had been around so much death and stress... And still to treat her so cruelly...

He had completely zoned out, only tuning back into reality as he exited a pastry shop beneath the monastery, a box topped with a pretty blue ribbon in his hands. He was holding it with a feather-light touch. He didn’t remember getting it, he hardly remembered the walk there. It was much easier to survive the first roaring wave of objections in his mind to him being distracted if he disassociated entirely. But, the contents smelled... delightful. And nostalgic, for some reason... It had pulled him back to the present. He was already moving to go back to her. This was her favorite. She had to have this. It wasn’t going to fix everything, but at least she was going to eat something...

She was asleep again when he returned, Byleth still seated by her. His expression was neutral again, but the worry was still in his eyes. “Dimitri, did you have something to do with this?”

The Prince couldn’t even meet his gaze as he hesitantly set foot in the room, “... Yes.” He had gotten here with such purpose in his stride, only to hesitate so close to his goal... His only solace was that she was finally catching up on all the sleep she had allegedly been missing.

The Professor leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, “What did you do?”

His Highness stayed silent, though he dared to move closer.

“I asked you a question.”

“I-” He grunted in response to the sudden pulse of pain in his skull. Byleth wouldn’t let him get away with this. But neither would the voices, “I said some things I regret.”

Now the Professor looked surprised. Hearing the prince admitting fault of any kind in his present state sure was something to behold, “Like what?” Predictably, this is where the admissions and the replies stopped. “Why are you here now?”

He looked down at the box in his hands, still intact. Did he really have any right to be there? 

“Are you going to apologize to her?”

“I don’t know...”

“Mmwha..?” The subject of this conversation had seemed to stir slightly, the chatter being a bit too loud.

Byleth’s eyes snapped up to The Prince, “You better decide quickly.”

She didn’t even have the energy to yelp upon seeing who was standing over her. All she could muster was grabbing the professors hand, a quiet plea for protection.

“It’s okay, (Y/N).” The teacher gave her hand a supportive squeeze. He had a lot of very anxious, or easily frightened students that he understood how to comfort by now, “His Highness has brought a gift for you,”

Byleth had decided what this was for him then. Fair enough. It was the obviously correct thing to do, even if the dead were screaming that it wasn’t. He couldn’t muster out the words ‘I’m Sorry,’ no matter how badly he actually wanted to say them, but he managed to hold out the little box, though his hands were shaking much like they had in the days prior.

She looked down at the gift in her lap, likely smelling the fruit, and the sugar. “What is this?”

“Please,” He began without thinking, “Please eat something...”

She stared back at him, puzzled as his voice almost broke. She unfurled the ribbon. Her eyes looked so tired, but when she saw the contents, she let out a soft, “Oh..!”

He made the conscious decision to kneel at her bedside. His height was imposing, and in this case he wanted to reduce the fear he could cause. His fingers clenched onto the sheets, desperate to relieve the mounting fear and tension, “(Y/N)...”

She almost bristled at the sound of him saying her name so gently, remembering full well what he had said to her. He couldn’t blame her.

“I didn’t mean any of it...” He tried to keep his head up, but it was so difficult to bear that fearful look in her eye, watching her lean closer to Byleth for safety, “I’m...” His head sank down onto the bed before he could finish.

“Did you hear him (Y/N)? He said he was sorry.” The Professor looked at her with a soft smile.

He hadn’t actually mustered the words. No matter how he choked on them, they just wouldn’t come out. Byleth had lied.

“Are you really?” Her attention was back on the pastry.

“Yes..!” His answer was quick, desperate to be believed. Even if he couldn’t outright say it, the feelings were there. Even if she didn’t actually forgive him - why would she? Even if she never wanted to be near him ever again, he just wanted her to know that he was so, so sorry, and he hadn’t meant a word of all those hateful things he had said.

“Hm.” She picked a small piece of fruit and crust out from the box, bringing it to her lips, “Let’s hope this stays down...”

His vice grip on the sheets finally relaxed, the tension in his body finally subsiding. He could have her back! Thank the Goddess! (Y/N), his (Y/N) had finally-

“If I finish this, will you please leave..?”

He couldn’t blame her for wanting him as far away from her as possible, but the request still cut like a knife. She wanted him gone. He didn’t need to wait and see if she could actually stomach anything, The Professor would handle that - someone who didn’t frighten her so tremendously.

He got off the floor without another word, and made himself scarce so that she could recover in peace.

There was no peace for his mind though. Now he was alone for certain, and at the mercy of the dead. Onward, towards the capital. That would quiet them...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I fucking love using ellipses. That will not change. I refuse to improve on this aspect of my writing. Tone and style over grammatical convention all the way BAY-BEE. What do you think - was this what you were looking for my friend?
> 
> Lets see... Next week, we've got more angst (again, are y'all doin okay out there?) And then after that, we've got what I would classify as fluff! Pregnancy angst, and a soul-mate AU, in that order! Couple of doozies, if I do say so myself.
> 
> I'm so god damn grateful for continued requests, y'all have no idea - half the time my classes are supposed to meet, they just... don't? So I've got a lot of time during the week. Thank you all very much for keeping me active! I'll see you next week. Let me know if you need anything!


	45. Assurance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, it’s kinda angst. A bittersweet pregnancy story during the war request for Merc. Reader wears a pretty dress to a meeting to secure more loans with some merchants and its driving Dimitri up the fucking wall. It occurs to him that he could die any day, so he might need to settle a few matters first. Lot of sexual shit implied in the first half, but like nothing too aggressively nsfw, Y’all know my stance on sexual conduct by now, I think. But like, how’m I supposed to address the pregnancy part if I don’t address everything leading up to it??? Dang binds...

One of the voices in his head had whispered to him something, much more gentle than the other voices. Since then, he could not look at (Y/N) easily. Certainly not that day. The way she was dressed was killing him. She was normally so simple and plain. A pleasant sight, to be certain, but he could stop himself from staring too long. It was always a white blouse, tucked into a long black skirt, and a dusty pair of field boots. Occasionally she was wrapped in a black cloak to keep back the wind. (On his... less painful days, she could be found with his own cloak over her shoulders. But only if she looked cold.) Practical, easy to replace.

But she was going to secure more funding from fellow merchant families for his war, and someone had suggested more formal attire for her as subtle persuasion. Evidently she agreed, and several giddy young women, who will not be named, but happened to both be passionate about music and cute things whisked her away to decorate her.

He bristled at the thought. Materialistic, gaudy attire, covering someone already easy on the eyes, making her fake and gauche, all so some lecherous men, old enough to be her father who thought they had a chance would pledge and back the fight to gain her favor. Not that Dimitri cared. He just found the idea of other people’s eyes on (Y/N) to be beyond irritating for some reason.

“So... What do you think?”

She actually came to see him before her meeting and... He didn’t know what to say at first. They hadn’t painted her face much at all. They had simply tucked her hair out of the way so that people could see her, and her soft lips, and her warm gaze...

The clothing was what had him reeling. The skirt was tight to her legs, rather than flowing, making her hips sway more when she walked - and he should not be looking there. His eye trailed up instead, and he noticed the corset under the gown was pressing her chest up more - and he needed to stop looking at her. He had seen her undressed before, several times, but that was alone, that was just the two of them, but now other people could see her-

“Um... Dimitri?”

Her voice snapped him back to reality, but that unintentionally made him snap at her, “What?”

“I asked you a question...” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. She was hardly taken back by how rude he could be these days. It wasn’t fair to her, but it was necessary to keep her emotionally distant. She gestured to the dress, “What do you think?”

If he had answered that question truthfully the voices would never stop wailing and assailing him, decrying him for losing focus of his aims over such a thing. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

Her sigh was heavy, and her gaze asked why she even bothered. He was disappointing her, “You’re the one who benefits from this, so I would still like your input.”

He would argue that anyone who could see her would benefit. And that made him inwardly furious. How dare they see her like this! He was the only person she had allowed such privilege!

She clasped her hands together, looking up at him. “Does this look nice? ‘Yes,’ or ‘no’?”

Her word choice was not strong enough. She looked beautiful, and desirable, and he realized he hadn't wanted her this badly since the first night he had told her to bed with him. “Yes.” Deep in his heart, he wanted to tell her how lovely she appeared, how precious her soft smile that he missed so dearly was... But that part of him was buried. Somehow, a quiet “You look nice,” was choked out of his throat and added to his answer.

Her eyes lit up, and a smile grew on her face. His words had surprised her, just as much as he surprised himself, “Really? Great, I hope it makes a good impression!”

He couldn’t allow himself to be happy anymore, but seeing her so pleased could easily fracture his restraint on his emotions. He did nothing as his heart rate picked up, “Come to me when you are done.”

“Very well, I’ll give you the full report, if this doesn’t run on for too long.” She perked up for a second, and her chest almost bounced with her- “If I am late, please don’t forget to eat!”

She always spoke to him like he was worth taking care of. It pained him in a way. Did she not understand how much of a waste her compassion was on him? With how little emotion he gave in return, at some point she should have realized how vile, hateful, “Do not keep me waiting,” and above all, how selfish he was,  _ “Tonight.” _

“Tonig-? Oh... Oh!” She knew what that meant. She knew what he wanted from her. She shifted her weight back and forth, fidgeting as she scrambled for a reply, “Um- Alright, if that’s what you wan- er, if that is what you would like.”

He turned away from her. This conversation was finished.

Before her footsteps began to trail away, she told him, “I mean it, when I say to eat. If I don’t hear from someone that you had dinner, I’m going to be really mad!”

(Y/N) was like a rabbit, threatening a starving lion. A very, very, oddly persuasive rabbit...

He sat near Dedue, avoiding the shocked stares of just about everyone. Even his closest retainer looked perplexed. He answered the man’s stare without him having to ask anything, “I do not wish to upset (Y/N).” And he left it at that.

Dedue understood. It was him, and that woman that were mostly responsible for keeping the prince standing these days. If his vassal did not fret so much over it, he would have ignored his wounds. If the lady did not drag him off to do so, he would not bathe nor eat. The lady also occasionally got him to sleep a full night.

Using her body as he pleased, and spending the evening lying with her did not necessarily prevent nightmares, but they were noticeably less frequent. Even if they occurred, when he snapped awake, he would find her in his arms, and he would know for certain that he was no longer dreaming, and relatively, he was safe for the time being. He could go back to sleep, if he chose to do so. Sometimes he did, other times he studied (Y/N). He wasn’t the only one suffering from dark dreams. Occasionally she would whimper in her sleep. He would pull her in closer, quietly soothing her until her breathing leveled out.

It was better that way. If she never knew about it, it gave the voices less to use in their crueler screams and cries over her being a waste of time. They didn’t understand how crucial she was.

He was a slave to their whims, of course. He understood what he had to do. He was the only one who could offer them that which would make them Rest In Peace. But still their wants made it difficult to survive, draining his own self preservation. How could he last long enough to avenge them like that? Even if he could only do so for short bursts, the thought of her motivated him enough to do enough to stay alive. And when he bedded her, the dead grew quiet, and he could be alone with his thoughts, his own thoughts, for just a little while...

That, and a physical urge was dealt with for the time being.

When he returned to the cathedral, he could already tell that the masses and rabble in his head were softening. It was steadily being replaced by his recollection of her voice,

_ “Dimitri...” _

She had once been so uncertain about calling him by name, but now that it was a normalized thing for her, she said it in all sorts of different ways. When she greeted him each day, and she flashed a soft smile as she said it. When she scolded him for doing less than the bare minimum to stay alive. When she referred to him by name in conversation with others. It stirred that long buried part of him. 

_ “Oh, Dimitri...” _

These days, the only one he had allowed himself to truly revel in was when he bedded her. Be it a moan or a cry, or the soft murmur she made into him before she fell asleep. He wanted to hear it. He  **needed** to hear it.

“Dimitri?” She appeared to him a far while past nightfall. “I’ve got some good news!”

In other words, she had kept him waiting longer than he wanted. Though that didn’t matter for a moment. Just a moment. When she called his name with such excitement in her voice, he almost smiled in response. Almost. His own excitement came and went in a split second, being swallowed up by his impatient need.

“The merchants guild members have pledged sufficient funding for us, and a few offered to send some of their estate guards to serve as reinforcements.” She seemed oblivious to the way he stared at her. Like he was a starving beast, and she was a fresh chunk of meat. 

_ Such a wretch he was. _ “Come here.”

She folded her arms, but took her hip swaying strides towards him, “I can see you’re not particularly interested...”

Part of him despised the sway he had over her. She did just about anything he said with little objection. It would be one thing to have her consent normally, but he was never fully certain whether she obeyed because she wanted to, or if she feared him, or felt forced due to his authority. He knew he would stop if she just said ‘no,’ but like the damnable creature he was, unconfirmed, he still gave into his lust every single time.

It was oddly reassuring when she almost smacked him away. It reminded him that she would reject him if she felt like it. “Are you crazy?!” She hissed clamping her hand over his mouth as he yanked her into his embrace, stopping him from kissing her. “Just because it’s late, doesn’t mean someone won’t see us here!”

She had a point. Had he really just tried to start something in the cathedral of all places? Regardless of either of their piety to the church, perhaps he was getting ahead of himself.

“Dimitri, if you want to do anything with me, we have to go up to your room. There are too many people here now.”

He grunted in response. He knew better. He didn’t care for the prying eyes of others anymore, but she still had a family reputation to uphold, she still had a future, and she didn’t need a scandal following her. She was too good for that. Without another word, he picked her up like a bride, and began walking.

She sighed, and begrudgingly put her arms around him to keep herself upright, “I know you can walk faster than me, but this seems like a bit much...”

“I’m done waiting.”

He watched her face grow more flushed, before she averted her gaze, “R-right then...”

He pleaded to the goddess who never answered him, to let her be flustered, rather than afraid. He carried her all the way to his door, his eye darting back and forth between her, and his destination. He was waiting for her to say ‘no,’ This would all be put to a stop if she just told him that she didn’t want to. He gently set her down on her own feet as they crossed the threshold, and closed the door behind them.

“So...” Her words trailed off before they had even truly begun. She didn’t know what to say. She hardly knew what to do. He was the one who initiated this.

“Strip.” He ordered, dry, impatient. He had already set about getting his armour off. Normally he took more careful attention with it, but the dead had been so quiet that day, and all he could think about was (Y/N) underneath him, mewling his name.

“Yeah, okay, I figured as much...” As his greaves and gauntlets, and chest-plate fell away, she kicked off her shoes, and slid off her stockings without complaint. It was when she went to unlace the corset back of her gown that she paused, “Uh... huh...” He watched her fidget around some more before giving him a pleading look, “It’s... they really laced this tight. Can you give me a hand?”

He wasn’t opposed to undressing her himself. He had done so before. But this time, with something like this, there was the possibility that he could tear it. He felt his fingers twitch.  _ Why did he care? _ He didn’t. He didn’t care. She had just looked so happy when he had complimented her earlier. If she could keep the dress, maybe she would smile at him- “Turn around.”

Her face went from bashful to slightly sad, as his tone was impatient, begrudging of her own clumsy inability. Still she pulled her hair out of the way for him, and she turned her back.

Delicacy was never something he had a full grasp on. Unless he was truly concentrated. But the longer he waited the more his focus shifted, and the more it shifted the less control he had. He reached out for the ribbons, holding the cloth up between him and what he wanted. It rested over her tail bone. He rested his hand on her hip for a moment. If he really felt like it, he could just hike up her skirt, and have her like that... No... No, he wanted to be able to see her. She didn’t have scars covering her entire body like he did. It was...  _ nice _ to see. Reassuring, almost. He took a deep breath, and with all the caution he could muster, he began to carefully pick at the knot, desperate to not tear the fabric.

Bit by bit, the bow came undone. He slowly tugged at the lacing, loosening it all the way up to the blades of her shoulders. His fingers, finally on her skin, made her shiver, as he tugged the fabric off her shoulders.

He stopped suddenly. There was a cluster of bruises near the nape of her neck. He ran his fingers over them. Those were teeth marks...

“Heh... it was really hard to hide that while I was getting dolled up.” She sounded sheepish as she spoke, “You uh... you really went for it last time...”

She was always so tender and gentle in the way she touched him. Stroking his face, soft kisses, petting his head. In a better life, he would have liked to return such affection ten fold. But now... Now he treated her roughly, uncaringly. He had taken her on her knees last time, and he hunched over her like an animal when he left those bite marks on her. He wanted her body and nothing more. Nothing more... He leaned down to kiss the bruising. She always seemed to enjoy such sweet things.

“Aw, is that your way of telling me you’re sorry~?”

He had nothing to say to that. It was an impulse. He hadn’t meant to do that..! He didn’t humor her teasing. He didn’t have the drive to. He couldn’t. He focused on what he wanted. The sooner he took her, the sooner he could forget about how much they used to laugh and banter together. He further pulled the dress off of her shoulders, letting it land in a cloth heap around her. He got through without ripping it. His heart was already beating faster. Before he could lose control of himself, he gently took her arm, helping her keep her balance as she stepped out of the dress.

She was going to thank him for the oddly delicate assistance, but it was substituted with a slight gasp, as he suddenly grabbed her at the waist, yanking her back into his chest.

Evidently he startled her, but he did not slow down. He didn’t want to wait anymore. His other hand slipped under the waistband of her underclothing. He didn’t want to tear up her clothing, that would upset her... Just before his fingers could brush between her legs, he told her, grumbling into her ear, “Take them off...”

“Oh- Okay...” She took the remaining clothing she had off, shakily, and tossed them into the heap of her dress.

As slight as her trembling was, it was enough to trouble him. “Do you enjoy this at all?” He had gotten a physiological reaction out of her a few times, but most of the time she had bit back squeals and gasps, as though she was rejecting them. If he had been forcing this on her all this time then he deserved to die.

“Oh! Um... I-I-I like this.” Her voice broke as she stuttered and stammered. Speaking wasn’t going to help her case much, and with how volatile his reaction could potentially be, she had to speak carefully. Her words were failing, and so she put her hands over his, to show her approval,“I like- with you, I-I mean- It feels good with you..!” 

He adjusted his grip, bringing his hand up to her chest. Her heart was pounding away, much like his. The only difference is that she was still shaking, “Are you afraid...?” It was a fair question. Was she afraid of him? She once tried to tell him that she cared for him, and he nearly strangled her for it. He wouldn’t blame her for being frightened of him. He so often frightened himself with just how horrid he could be.

She shook her head, following his hand, this time certain to grab and hold him, “Last time you were really rough though, so, could you just... be more gentle with me?”

_ ‘I’m sorry,’ _ That was all he had to say. He had been too cruel last time, and he needed to apologize. “... I hadn’t realized I...” The words caught in his throat.

“It’s okay.” She gave his hand a squeeze. She knew. He couldn’t be sorry to the living anymore, only the dead. She knew that. She knew he would have been sorry, only if he could.

It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t... she deserved better than this. She deserved better than him. But he wanted her so badly... He needed to be more careful with her... He pulled her into him again, getting his fingers between her legs. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, other than his long overdue apologies, “If you want me to stop, tell me,” was what he managed to articulate.

“I will...” She turned her head over her shoulder so she could offer him one of her gentle kisses. Such sweet gestures that he always escalated into a hungry mess of starved lust because he was too monstrous to understand self control.

He didn’t know why he kept doing this to himself. He knew that if he indulged in his affections for her too much then his state of mind would just get worse. He almost hurt her the last time he had let himself go. The result of chatting with her, being gentle with her - it caused him nothing but pain, and put her in danger. He couldn’t keep doing this. He knew he couldn’t. It would give her false hope. But she liked it. It was something he used to do that made her happy. She would look up at him, and try to find a part of him that was long dead. It wasn’t fair to her, and he should have stopped. But her lips were so soft... It was misery not being able to touch her as much as he wanted to, but that was what he got for being such a monster. He could not cradle her face in his hands. He could not risk taking her by the wrist. He couldn’t even hug her properly when he got like this. Goddess forbid he ever lost control of his strength at a time like this. He would have never forgiven himself.

He couldn’t taste anything. He hadn’t been able to for years. But sometimes he recalled the flavors of things he used to enjoy. Maybe he was imagining things, but when she kissed him back, and got her fingers tangled in his hair, he thought he could taste sugar on her tongue. 

He had to remind himself that the dead wanted something out of him this time. Oh, but he was so distracted, as the last of his own clothing came away, as he carefully brought the lady to the bed. He let her play with his hair as he used her as he pleased. It felt nice. Perhaps he could put off this request just for a bit longer...

He adored looking at her, and somewhere in that buried part of his heart, he was pleased and honored that he was the only person who had seen her like this. Only he had seen her hair splayed around her like this. Only he had seen how flustered she could be. Only he had ever gotten to look down at her from where he was. “(Y/N)... You can’t do this with anyone else.”

Though her face was flushed, her answer was still casual with him, as he had always asked her to be, “I mean, I haven’t really been planning to...”

“No... You- I-“ He was selfish, and greedy, and possessive, and vile, and monstrous. He wanted her all to himself. Always. If his army didn’t need the merchant’s money, he would have torn every single one of them apart for daring to try and steal her affections. He stumbled over his words and thoughts like an incoherent fool. “I can’t stand the thought of you laying with anyone else..!”

She must have thought it odd, knowing him, that he was expressing something with a semblance of attachment to another person, though she didn’t let it show more than her blushing appearance allowed, “I don’t want to be with anyone else, so you don’t need to worry.”

She only wanted to be with him... She only wanted him! The warmth around him was his alone! His (Y/N)! He leaned down to kiss her again, starved for the affection he could not handle not being directed to him.

He reveled in the sound of his own name being moaned into him as the night carried on around them. This aided the dead in a way, so maybe he could stay by her side, if certain demands were met. “(Y/N). I need an heir.” That was what that gentle voice had told him. If he should fall, that would be the end of the Blaiddyd line. He would have failed every single lost soul if he let that come to pass. An heir could be a failsafe, a legacy, someone to pick up the torch. Or at the very least, he could make something joyful out of his miserable existence.

She stared up at him, blinking a few times. It was taking her a moment or two to process that he had asked her to bear him a child, “L-like, right now..?”

He gnawed on the inside of his cheek. If he was not in the midst of one of the most stressful and emotionally taxing periods of time in his life (which was just a laundry list of bad things happening to him to be honest,) he might have started laughing at the sheer absurdity of the question. “... Yes, now.”

“Could it be another night, Dimitri?” Still flushed as ever she took a very deep breath, “I need to think about this...”

Well, it wasn’t a ‘no,’ If not this evening, maybe the next. It was a lot to ask of a person, to carry the child of a sovereign without being wed to them - especially in the midst of a war. No matter how the dead urged him otherwise, she deserved the time she needed to consider. “Alright.”

When all was said and done, she nestled her head into his chest, readying to let sleep take her away. She had yet to stop blushing. “Why ask me, of all people? I don’t exactly think my family has the know-how to support an heir to the throne, and future sovereign.”

“I don’t care about the throne.” That was a lie. Almost any time he said he didn’t care, he actually did. He didn’t want the throne for status, he wanted it so he could make a difference in the lives of others. “You would be kind to the child...” That was what mattered most in the end. No need for a legacy, no need for them to continue his quest for vengeance. They would probably be better off without someone as disgusting as him in the picture anyway.

“Would I..?” She closed her eyes, “I don’t think I’m ready to be a parent...”

“You don’t have to do anything, if you aren’t ready.” Gronder was on the horizon. He could die there. And that would be the end of everything... But if she didn’t want to, then that was that.

Gronder...

Troublesomely for the lady, and rather guiltily for the prince, they were not as careful as they could have been. A few weeks later, people had been under the impression that (Y/N) had fallen ill. It was a problem, one of the most dutiful and diligent medics being taken out of commission, because she spent most mornings throwing up, and had been unable to hold down what little food she had seemed quite dead set on eating - and just before one of the largest battles in the war!

Professor Manuela, despite the protesting of the young woman, insisted that she be examined before heading to the field with the other medics. That was when the realization was made. “(Y/N)... Do you know whose it is?” The woman’s voice was very quiet, very low, not wanting anyone else still in the infirmary to have blackmail against the young lady. Manuela wouldn’t tell a soul. But the gossip mongers had eyes and ears everywhere.

The young woman nodded.

“Please tell me it isn’t who I think it is...” The doctor got a bit concerned when the answer was not immediate, “Kiddo, I gave you two pieces of advice - ‘don’t stick your dick in crazy,’ and ‘don’t let crazy stick it’s dick in you-”

“Oh, hush!” She folded her arms, “Don’t speak about him like that..!”

Manuela pet her hair, and brought her into a hug. To be in such a position, and so young... (Y/N) was barred from going to Gronder. Her safety, now that she was potentially carrying royal blood, could not be jeopardized. It left her with time to think. Based on the timing of it all, this wasn’t the result of their last night together. It was more likely the time he had bitten her a bit too aggressively. She had not been exaggerating when she told him that he had been very inconsiderate to her that time.

She didn’t get the chance to tell The Prince until after Lord Fraldarius fell. Dimitri was, however briefly, somehow in a worse place than he already was when Rodrigue had died. The Professor had managed to convince him not to charge off to Enbarr on his own, and perhaps he had realized he was being unnecessarily cruel to others, but now he was drowning in grief.

She found them as Byleth talked him down, “Dimitri..?” She called, unsure if she should be interrupting such an important heart to heart.

“(Y/N),” He had a concern in his eye that hadn’t been there for some time, “You’ll get sick if you stay in this weather...”

“I know this may not be the best time but-” She was wringing her hands together anxiously, “I’m sorry, but I need to speak with you.”

He nodded gratefully to The Professor. He would do his best to honor his advice, and maybe, just maybe, he could survive at least a little while longer on his own terms. Even if he didn’t think he deserved to, and even if he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He draped part of his cloak over the lady without really thinking to do so. He was already soaked to the bone, but she wasn’t.

She wordlessly hurried him all the way back to his room, closing the door behind them. “Alright,” She began in a very hushed voice, “I- I need... I’m-”

He tried not to jump or growl defensively, surprised as he was when she suddenly grabbed his hand. He was doing his best to be patient as she stumbled over her own tongue. It was the least he could do for her, after all she had done for him.

“Listen, I- I might be..!” She grit her teeth, the words lost to her. Giving up on a verbal explanation entirely, she pulled his hand over her stomach, and looked up at him, nearly on the verge of tears. They weren’t happy tears though, “I’m-”

“Oh.” His voice was small, “You’re...” His legs felt weak, “And it’s mine..?”

She nodded, that same distressed darkness in her eyes. He wished he could know what she was thinking - he could only guess the anxiety this was causing. What was she going to tell her father? Could she continue her work like this? They weren’t even married! This was borderline hethanism by the standards of the church! And him... Would he be there for her?

“I’m sorry...” He sank to his knees, burying his face into her side, “I’m so sorry...” He said again. This was the one of the first things he had apologized for in ages.

“Ah- Just-” She groaned unhappily, “Why are you apologizing, Dimitri?”

“You told me you weren’t ready, and yet...” She would not have been in this situation if it weren’t for him. She wasn’t ready. Damn it all, he wasn’t ready! He was still coming to grips with the mere concept of having a will to live being renewed in him, “I’m sorry-”

“Please, stop saying sorry,” She took his face gently in her hands, tilting his head up, “Just- Just tell me what we need to do now..!”

Of course she was asking him how to go forward from here. He was the one who had demanded this from her, so what now? What more could he possibly want from her now? “I will go find someone to officiate in the morning,”

“You want _ to elope..? _ ”

On one hand, the last thing he had the right to do was shackle himself to her under these circumstances, but on the other, forcing her to carry an illegitimate royal bastard without wedding her could be dangerous, never mind genuinely horrible of him to do. “If you will allow it.”

“If I...” He still felt cruel, spinning this as though there was an illusion of choice. Either she was chained to him and all his misery, potentially forced into the responsibilities of becoming Queen Consort, or her reputation, her family reputation, would all be destroyed by the hyper puritanical wrath of Fodlan. Her fingers were threading through his hair as she thought, “Will we tell anyone..?”

“If you wish to inform your family, please do so,” He closed his eye to think, “I will likely need to inform Gu- Gilbert... Perhaps The Professor as well.”

“Dimitri...” She kept his head poised up, forcing him to focus on her again, “You can’t die, do you hear me?”

“I-”

“You have to survive..!” Her voice broke, her tears finally beginning to fall, “You can’t leave me alone like this..!”

“I won’t..! I won’t leave you..!” He would never leave her side, for as long as she wanted him there. No matter how much he wanted to fade away so the voices would stop. He had to live now. She fell to the floor with him, and he owed it to her at the least to cradle her until she was able to process what her life was about to become. The life he had condemned her to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PHEW. Golly, y'all have been asking for a lot of angst lately. Hope you folks are doing okay. Next week is fluff, hopefully it'll cheer you all up a little bit!
> 
> Anyway, y'all know the drill! Hit me up, or catch me later ;P


	46. Mistress of Mischief: Soulmate AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks we got ourselves a request here from Aph_Britain_America - a soulmate AU! This is my first time writing this kind of AU, so like, holy shit I hope I do this one right!

Based on the words etched into your wrist, you always suspected your soulmate was going to speak to you because of one of your stupid pranks. It read **“Excuse me, Miss. What are you doing there?”** It just read so much like someone doing their absolute damndest to say, “Hey kid, quit fucking around,” in the nicest way they could muster.

You were quite set on getting all your mischief out of your system in your early years, first and foremost, so you could find your soulmate as soon as humanly possible, and secondly, because being a rascal was probably not a long term trait you could carry if you didn’t find them. Your old man was a monk at Garreg Mach, and all things considered, if you didn’t find your soulmate soon enough, you were going to wind up being a nun at the monastery. It was a good possibility such a path would prevent you from ever getting to be with your beloved. Such tragic tales littered history, and did not leave any in the present exempt. Might as well get some progress done, and have fun while you were at it.

A year before a lot of genuinely crazy shit happened surrounding the monastery, you had journeyed to Derdriu with your father, and some other church officials to legitimize some important duke’s long lost heir. These were the circumstances leading you to meet your absolute bestie, honestly a dude who could have been your soulmate under different circumstances, the man, the myth, the legend: Claude von Riegan, master schemer, and fellow prank enthusiast.

You two were an absolute nightmare inducing influence on each other. When Claude told you he was going to be at the Monastery for the better part of a year, you damn near lost it. The chaos would surely reign supreme with the two of you in one place for that long! Glorious! You two were already concocting various clownery to commit upon the unsuspecting students. Replacing drawings with slightly different images, putting smoke bomb herbs in the kitchen to see if anyone would be ditzy enough to not realize it, moving furniture two inches to the left to make clumsy people bump into it.

Your personal favorite was the nonsense you had pulled on the first day of actual classes. Your target was the new professor that was taking on the Blue Lions. You were a bit sad that Claude wouldn’t be able to witness it play out in person, but you would be more than happy to regale him with the tale over lunch later that day. This Byleth guy... You didn’t really know what his deal was. He seemed nice enough, he had come to greet you and the other monastery occupants the day prior, but he also had a thousand yard stare that told you he may not understand japes and jests very well. If Fodlan had the concept of elevators, you would have observed, and humored the idea that he had elevator music playing in his head. Pranking him would just confuse him - which was all the better. The aim of any good prank is to confuse, rather than to hurt!

Kids like you, who grew up in highly religious and strict environments basically turned out in one of three ways. Number one, become an overly sheltered wing-nut who would clutch their pearls at the slightest bit of adult humor. Number two, rebel upon coming of age, and turning to binge drinking and other reckless behavior to make up for lost opportunities. You were luckily the third option - fairly well adjusted, but permanently having the humor of a twelve year old ruffian.

So dick jokes were just the funniest shit in the world to you.

Your magnificent plan that would send any middle-schooler to the floor in a fit of laughter was simple, but highly effective. You rose at the crack of dawn, procuring a chisel from the supply closet, before sneaking into the Blue Lion Classroom. This would all totally be worth waking up this early. Totally.

You spent the better part of an hour, painstakingly using the chisel to scratch something into the slate. A very simple ‘C = 3’ Because you were an absolute child in terms of comedy. Now now, you couldn’t just scratch a dick into monastery property. That wouldn’t be very funny. Vandalism without a punchline is just that. Vandalism. You were here for the  **PRANK, BRO!** So, you took a piece of chalk, and you doodled a slightly cartoonish looking kitty cat over it! And when that stone faced professor erased it later to conduct class, he might just express something! One’s reaction to a prank was a relatively good way to gauge a person's personality. Whether it would be amusement, confusion, or annoyance was none of your concern. You were more curious if he would react at all.

You scampered off to return the chisel to its rightful place, and just as the bell tolled to signal the academy students that it was time for class, you sauntered on your way to a pillar just outside the Blue Lion classroom. The door was left open to let in stragglers as everyone began to take their seats. A broad grin began to creep across your face as The Professor entered the room. You were sufficiently out of sight for all of those in the room, and you had a clear view of the board itself. It wasn’t a bad drawing, honestly, as simplistic as it was. Maybe art could be your hobby, if you did ever have to formally retire from tomfoolery. 

The stone faced teacher strode up to the board and immediately reached for the eraser. The giddiness gave you the sensation of butterflies in your stomach, you nearly leaned hard enough to emerge from your cover, just to see it happen. He paused and studied it for a moment, letting out a ‘Hmph,’ before going to erase it. 

You were waiting with baited breath as the kitty doodle disappeared more with each wipe. As the cat was gone entirely, there was a pause. The room was dead quiet, save for one tall red headed man, who was absolutely losing his shit. Ah, a fellow clownery enthusiast with the twelve year old boy humor! You and this dude should hang out sometime... As soon as that blonde girl and dark haired guy stopped hitting him! Sheesh! Buzzkills!

You were doing you damndest not to snicker too loudly, trying not to blow your cover, but it seems you had been spotted!

“Excuse me, Miss. What are you doing there?”

“You can see me?!” You nearly jumped out of your skin. You threw your back against the pillar so no one in the classroom could see you, given you had yelped so loudly.

“Yes?” You were currently looking up at possibly the prettiest boy you had ever laid your eyes upon. He was tall, and he had this really silky looking blond hair, and his eyes were sharp, but they were this beautiful greyish blue! “You don’t look like an academy student, but you seem to be trying to watch the lecture. Did you want to sit in and spectate?”

“What- No! What? No- I was just-” You were freaking out! Your heart was beating loud enough for him to hear, you thought. You had realized he said  _ the thing! The soul mate thing _ ! “‘Scuse me!” You bolted to the side, and sprinted for your life, away from the pretty boy in a black uniform and blue cape.

“Oh, have a nice day then!” He called after you.

Goddess, the first words out of your mouth to your soulmate were ‘YoU CAn sEe mE?’ AGH! This was horrible! This was lame! What if meeting you made him decide not to pursue the whole soulmate relationship thing?! That certainly wasn’t unheard of...  **AND OH GODDESS YOU RAN AWAY FROM HIM BEFORE YOU EVEN ASKED HIS FUCKING NAME!!**

You were on edge until you caught your main man Claude at lunch. You dragged him out of the Dining Hall to the balcony overlooking the fishing pond, the result of your earlier prank completely forgotten. “Bro, I found him!” You exclaimed, practically shaking the poor lad.

He gave you a couple taps, a signal to please stop shaking him, before his skull starts rattling, “Found who?”

You finally released the poor duke to be, and instead yanked your sleeve up to expose the words etched into your wrist, “A guy came up to me and said  _ the thing!” _

He looked down at your arm, and his eyes got wide eyed, “Gods above, you met your soulmate!” He gave you a pat on the back, “Congrats lady! So, did you like him?”

“Ummm...”

Claude frowned, “Aw, is he not what you were hoping for?”

“What? Oh no. Dude was hot as hell, real pretty looking,” You waved your hands dismissively, “I didn’t get to really talk to him that much though.”

“Why not?”

“I panicked, and I ran.”

Your best buddy got real quiet for a moment. And then the bastard started laughing at you! “(Y/N), you can’t be serious!”

“Don’t you laugh at me, you asshole! He was so pretty I was intimidated!”

That only made him laugh harder, “I refuse to believe it! What's this guy look like anyway? Is he really more handsome than this dashing rogue, right in front of you~?” He flashed you that easy grin of his.

“Well he-,” Your face scrunched up into a pout, doing very little to hide the blush on your face, “He had this really soft looking blond hair, and this porcelain smooth skin- and- and his eyes were so pretty! I’ve never seen a shade of blue like that in a person before!”

Claude was really trying to bite back his smile, “I’m gonna assume he’s a student... What was he wearing?”

You had to think about it for a second. You had left in such a rush, you almost didn’t notice. “Uh... His uniform was a bit more military like than some of the other students. Lots of black, armor uh- gauntlets and grieves and stuff... Oh!” You almost smacked yourself, missing such a defining feature, “And he was wearing a blue shoulder cape!”

“Like a house leader cape?”

“Yeah!” You nodded. It was only when your friend’s grin grew more sly that the realization began to dawn on you.

“Well, well! Congrats on finding your soulmate,  _ Your Majesty...” _ He playfully ruffled your hair, “Your soulmate is the Crown Prince of Faerghus!”

“Oh. Oh, holy shit.”

That Prince in question had spent that first class quiet, almost in a state of complete shock, as he processed that odd conversation he had with that even odder, yet pretty girl he met outside. That girl watching the classroom had said the words burned into his wrist since the day he was born. His eyes had been flicking down to his arm throughout the entirety of the lecture. Goddess above, he never could have imagined his soulmate being corporeal!

That would have sounded odd to just about any other person, but not to him. He... He heard things, sometimes even saw people who weren’t around anymore. Lost souls... The words ‘You Can See Me?” had left him with the impression that he wouldn’t have found someone to say those words until after they had departed this world. It would be just another tragedy to add to his series of unfortunate events - his soulmate coming to him in the form of a ghost...

Suffice to say, seeing such a vibrant, energetic young lady instead was a pleasant, and very welcome surprise! It was a shame that she had run off so quickly. Perhaps she realized the situation, and became nervous? He certainly was, having absolutely no idea how to approach her a second time to get this sorted out!

Ugh! You had absolutely no idea how to approach him a second time to get this sorted out!

But you know who did have some schemes up his sleeve to get you to talk to this  _ Prince Dimitri _ ?  **YA BOI CLAUDE!** And what was The Master Tactician’s plan to get you back in a space to speak with your destined love? Prank him!

Well shit, it was what you did best, not to mention, how could you ever pass up the chance to prank royalty, and also your soulmate? This was also a good opportunity to see what kind of man this Dimitri guy was. If he was a good sport, then you would absolutely try to move forward with him. If he was a dick about it, cool, good riddance! “I could sculpt some soap to look like food. Like, that would be pretty funny.”

“Ehhh, you probably shouldn’t do that to him,” Claude gave you a shaky hand, as you both hunched over your table in the dining hall, scheming your schemey schemes, “I heard he can’t actually taste anything, so he might end up eating it by mistake.”

Oh, damn, he had ageusia? That must have sucked, “Dang it! That means putting sugar in the salt shaker isn’t going to work either...”

“Now, I know I’m the one who suggested pranking him, but you could also just try talking to him,” Your bestie shrugged, “He’s a pretty nice guy. A bit up tight, and kinda naive, but nice! Maybe show him one of the coin tricks you do for the orphans!”

“I mean, I could...” You were quite the favorite church staffer among the youth, not only for your youthful and laidback zeal compared to the usual stuffiness of the church, but because you liked to do little magic tricks for them. They just thought you were neat! “But I also reeeaaallllllyyy want to mess with him a little now!”

“Alright, far be it from me to try and stop you...”

Dimitri had been doing a little bit of digging as the days passed by. He often saw that girl reading under one of the trees in the courtyard of the Officer’s Academy, but he felt his courage leave him each time he got the idea in his head that he should go talk to her. Foolish young man he was, he hadn’t gotten to ask her her name! And so he had resorted to asking around about her...

Her name was (Y/N). She was the daughter of a monk who lived at Garreg Mach, and she had been raised at the monastery for her whole life. She was known to be a very sweet young lady, she was very well read, but she apparently also had the reputation of creating mischief every now and again. Well, he supposed there was little harm in the jokes she played on others. He also learned that she was absolutely adored by the Orphans that the church often took in.

Whenever she appeared, he had observed during his stay, the little ones would practically swarm her. The little girl’s would beg her to braid their hair, and the boys would challenge her to games, and ‘tests of courage,’ (silly things, like daring her to climb as high as she could in the forest, or daring her to split arrows in the training grounds,) Most of all, they seemed to enjoy the slight of hand tricks she would do to give them treats and coins.

To be perfectly honest, he found them to be impressive as well! He had no idea where she was hiding the candies or gold pieces she made appear, before giving them to the children. At first he had assumed she was simply keeping them tucked up her sleeves, and she would let them drop into her fingers when she feigned seeing something on their face, or behind their ears. But she could do it with her sleeves cuffed as well. She must have had quite the slight of hand! Above all, it was apparent that she was kind hearted. It should be easy enough to approach someone like that...

You were well aware that your soulmate had been asking about you. Some nuns who had watched you grow up were very worried when royalty had been looking for information about you. They didn’t know if one of your japes had crossed a line with the wrong kind of person, or if the Kingdom had saddled the academy with more than one philanderer for the year. They tracked you down to warn you immediately of the dangers of men, and also to maybe cool it with the practical jokes before someone got mad. You thanked the sisters of the cloth, but assured them that there wasn’t anything to fear. (Also hey, maybe don’t mention this to your father...)

Of course, you had been doing some digging of your own. His Highness seemed like a person who had been through quite a lot in his life, and he was just trying to make things better despite it all. According to a good number of his peers, he was the embodiment of chivalry, polite, and he was quite humble! Just like all those knights you had grown up reading about! Sick!

You were well aware that he often saw you reading in your favorite spot outside the academy. The shade of the tree was nice and cool. (A great spot to nap, honestly!) You caught him staring a few times, and each time you accidentally locked eyes, you would both start blushing furiously. The two of you were more or less on the same page at this point - and you hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak again! It just made you want to mess with him even more, now that you were so synced!

One sunny day, you were snacking on some cheese and crackers you had in a little basket near you, beneath your precious tree. You were pouring over  _ The Sword of Kyphon _ , which the shortest Blue Lion boy had lent you recently, because you hadn’t actually read it for a while, when suddenly you were aware of someone standing a few feet away from you.

“Hello again,”

You managed to tear your eyes away from your reading, your soulmate standing before you, “Hi...” Was all you managed in response. He had managed to work up the courage to speak to you first!

“I apologize, I’m seldom at a loss for words, but...” He paused to remove his gauntlet, before presenting you his wrist, the words ‘ **You can see me?!’** Plainly etched into his skin, “These were your words in our first exchange, were they not?”

Your eyes flickered down to your own arm, “Yup.” Oh wait, shit, you probably should have been a little more formal about this, “I-I mean- Yes! Yes they were!”

“I see... Then what I said to you...”

You lifted your arm for him to see, coupled with a very nervous, but desperate to not seem so chuckle, “I wasn’t expecting it. I’m sorry for running off..!”

“Oh, please, don’t be!” He knelt to be level with you, to get a better look in your eyes, “I certainly wasn’t expecting it either.”

“Well it’s-” You were planning on playing a joke on this man if this conversation was going to happen, but you were getting distracted and anxious. He was being so understanding and GODDESS ABOVE HE WAS SO FREAKIN’ CUTE! You managed a smile, hoping you didn’t look goofy or awkward as you subtly put your book to the side. “It’s really nice to meet you!”

“Yes, same to you,” He smiled back at you, and though you felt in your heart it was genuine, you could not shake the sense that it had been a very, very long time since he had made such an expression.

“So, um... My name is (Y/N),” You knew he already knew, but maybe you could just play along for a bit... You reached out for a hand shake, “And you’re Prince Dimitri?”

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as he clasped your hand between his, “Just ‘Dimitri’ is fine, please.”

His hands were a lot bigger than you could have anticipated. When he was done growing, he would cut a very imposing figure, for sure. You were also rather surprised by how cold and callous his fingers were. It was still pleasant to be held by him though. It felt right. Was it still too early to go in for a hug? You wanted to know how that felt too... “Oh, sure!” You cleared your throat, “Uh, hi Dimitri.”

He kind of reminded you of a puppy, with the way he perked up at the sound of his own name. Did people not call him that a lot? His smile had yet to falter in the slightest. He was just as excited as you were, possibly more so, “Hello, (Y/N).”

Never had you ever needed something so much, and not known until you received it. It was ordained by fate that you would adore this man, should your paths ever cross. The way your name sounded coming from him would have brought happy tears to your eyes from how meant to be it felt. But you could not falter. You had a scheme lined up to see if this polite and adoring demeanor truly held up under pressure, or if he was just trying to impress you and reel you in. “You have a break in your classes now, right? Would you like to join me for a little while?”

“It is about time for lunch. Are you going to go eat?” He still hadn’t let go of your hand, which was very distracting..!

You shook your head, “I’ve got some snacks here. You can have some if you want anything.” And so your test was set in motion. You tilted your head towards your adorable little picnic basket. You had been enjoying those cheese and crackers for a little while, but you also had some sliced up apples, a sweet roll, and a very realistic looking fake copperhead snake. Your goal was in mind to surprise him, see if he got huffy, or irritated easily so soon after meeting you.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“I insist, help yourself.” He was still holding your hand! AND IT FELT PERFECT!!! “I- Its a good opportunity for us to chat alone, right?”

“Well, if you insist,” He finally settled into the grass properly. Unfortunately he released you to reach over for the basket. It was the price you would have to pay to see your plans come to fruition. Before he reached under the blanket over your basket, he gave you a nod, and a “Thank you,”

You suddenly felt a bit bad about potentially scaring him... You waited for the cry of fear, the concerned yelp, and then possible irritation to follow.

“Oh goodness...” He murmured quietly as he lifted the blanket, “How did that get in there?” He was staring down at the rubber animal curiously, “Oh! It’s fake. Why on earth do you have that in your basket?”

You had not anticipated a completely indifferent response in the slightest for this one. So, how were you going to justify this joke if it didn’t even register with him. “It uh...”  _ Come on brain! _ “... Discourages food thieves! Like the mice and birds!” You laughed uncomfortably trying to hide that you were almost sad you hadn’t made him jump in the slightest, “You can have whatever you want though!”

“I see. Again, thank you.” He reached over the snake, and plucked a few apple slices from the cloth they were wrapped in.

This was certainly an interesting outcome. He didn’t seem concerned for his own safety for even a second despite the replica poisonous snake, which was just... A little bit worrying? But on the plus side, he didn’t fly off the handle, he didn’t get upset with you. He honestly seemed rather amused by your excuse. “You seem really nice, Dimitri. Do you want to do this more often?”

“I would be happy to.” His smile reminded you of the sun, now that he was doing it again. It felt warm and bright. Hopefully he would be doing that more often.

So, maybe you didn’t get to prank your soulmate, and now that you did find him, you were probably going to have to tone down the mischief in general. Being tied to royalty had such consequences. (You would not end your shenanigans entirely. The Goddess herself would not have been able to stop you.) But, you could still do your little magic tricks whenever you wanted! He was particularly interested in the one where you made coins appear from behind someone’s ears. He would make that puppy-like expression each time he saw it, and had been begging you to teach him how it worked.

It made your heart skip a beat. So this is what true love felt like...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though this chapter is dedicated todear Aph_britain_America, I would like to personally give a shoutout to Anime_hotty_lover_24 for having the four hundred and twentieth comment on the oneshot series. God damn, what an honor. Congrats champ! You got the funny weed number!
> 
> Anyway, Aph, I hope you liked this chapter, and that it was what you were looking for! It was a really cute request, and I enjoyed working on it!
> 
> Do I use exclamation marks too much? I feel like an overly excited kindergarten teacher sometimes... Oh well, catch you later~!


	47. Vitriolic II: Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kei, asking me for a thing? A follow-up thing? Because forgiveness and making amends for the wrongs we commit against others are our methods of growing and moving on and also as improving as people????

Prince Dimitri had managed to apologize to just about everyone for being nothing short of an actual monster. He owed Rodrigue that much for his sacrifice. He had apologized to his soldiers, his officers, his friends, and those he considered to be like family. He had even apologized to the cooks in the dining halls for his lack of table manners, and his rude behavior.

The only person he had yet to formally say ‘I’m sorry,’ to was Lady (Y/N) - arguably one of the people he owed the biggest apology to, given how he had treated her. He had intended to resolve the situation as soon as possible, but...

Well, she was understandably avoiding him. He couldn’t blame her. Anyone with a modicum of self-respect would do that same after what he had said to her. Of course, he had tried to make amends at several different points. Visiting her after her collapse was certainly the most visible effort, but even then he hadn’t quite managed to cough out the word ‘sorry,’ himself. The Professor had covered for him, and made it seem as though he had, but (Y/N) had rightfully been skeptical. Dimitri would much rather actually say it outright, and be believed. 

Sadly, each time he asked her if she had a moment, she would mumble out a quiet, “No, sorry,” and then she would scurry away with her head down. That wasn’t like her at all. He had frightened her terribly, and this newfound nervousness was the result. She still wasn’t looking well either. Though she was eating again (thanks to the constant supervision of The Professor,) it was evident that she was not sleeping well - if she was sleeping at all. Her reaction times were slower than normal, she often zoned out, and she was also plagued by a constant lightheadedness. He could not help but worry for her wellbeing, on top of his already present guilt. As he continued to improve, she remained stagnant in the remnants of the suffering he had caused. It wasn’t fair.

She did not have to forgive him if she did not think he deserved that, but he did want to see her in a much cheerier state, for certain. How was he to achieve such a thing, if she fled any time he tried to speak with her? Even if he did get a moment alone with her, what was he supposed to say?  _ ‘I am terribly sorry that I told you that you were useless, and that I objectified you, and told you that didn’t mean a thing to me, especially after all the things you’ve done for me - I just didn’t like it when the voices in my head told me to murder you in cold blood constantly!’ _ As true as that sequence of words was, it was also a plainly terrifying thing to say to a person, and probably would have scared her more. The Prince was in a bit of a bind. He could not let this injustice stand any longer, but he did not want to do any further damage to sweet (Y/N) than he already had.

His solution was subtle for a member of royalty. He wouldn’t want to overwhelm her with his physical presence, nor any of the unnecessary pomp and circumstance that surrounded his mere existence. Early in the morning, just before her shift in the infirmary was to begin, he had snuck in, and left a bouquet of purple hyacinth. According to Dedue, who had helped gather them, they were flowers that one sent to ask for forgiveness. Along with the flowers was a note,  _ ‘My dear lady (Y/N), may these brighten your day. And may your smile, warm and bright like the sun, shine upon us once more.’ _

He hoped such a message was not overbearing. He always did have trouble expressing his feelings on such matters. This was still considerably easier than having to risk cornering her, and then stumbling over his words and choking on his own tongue. 

He was long gone by the time she arrived, thus he was unable to gauge how she had felt about this token of his apology. Would she even know it was from him? Should she? Perhaps it was better that she was simply receiving anonymous gifts to cheer her up, rather than let the thought be attached to him. That would be fine, he believed.

His next present was that same pastry he had gotten her when she was infirmed. The little box of it, once more wrapped in a blue ribbon was accompanied by another note,  _ ‘For my dear lady (Y/N). Something sweet, for someone sweet.’ _ Again he was gone before she appeared, though later that day, he had happened to pass by the infirmary again by chance. She was at the table, now adorned with a vase of hyacinth, scribbling away at her notes, and happily munching on the gift. He felt quite pleased having seen that alone.

Rumors had begun circulating that a certain medic had a secret admirer. He wasn’t so devoid of awareness to not understand that his efforts were being misinterpreted by the gossip mongers. He could only hope that the presents were leaving a positive impact on his beloved- He had very little right to refer to her in such a manner... He could only hope that Lady (Y/N) was made just a bit happier. 

His next project, now that he could confirm she was eating with his own eye, was figuring out good ways to help her get a full nights sleep. That seemed to be the one thing she was unable to do again. How badly shaken could she have been, to still not want to doze off with her work schedule?

He had been searching in town, tirelessly for something suitable. Personally buying her a new nightgown seemed on the nose, not to mention horrifyingly intrusive. Leaving her chamomile would give away it was him with the sheer volume that he consumed. Gifting her a dagger seemed like it would be more of a threat, than a gesture and wish for her security. This took a lot more emotional thinking than he had done for a very, very long time...

He found something perfect on day three of his quest. It was... precious. And soft, and she was going to love it! He was certain that this would bring her comfort! He received an odd look from the shopkeeper, who was probably confused why someone like him was asking them to tie a blue ribbon into a bow on the collar of the little lion plush. The Prince was not someone who was regularly associated with cute things like a plush toy. Perhaps it would be better for his image, and mental health if he was. He simply smiled, and thanked the shopkeeper.

All he had left to do was pen his last note, and drop it off without being seen. He was thinking something along the lines of,  _ ‘For my dear lady (Y/N). May you find yourself in repose with your little lion watching over you.’ _ He kept the plush tight to his chest, not wanting anyone to spoil the surprise. He thought this would be something she could hold if she was anxious at night. She should have been on break around this time, if he recalled correctly...

“Your Highness...”

He froze in the hallway. Goddess, he hadn’t anticipated how much it would hurt to hear her use something other than his name to address him. It was like a knife to the heart. As he turned around, he hid the lion behind his cloak, “(Y/N)...” He wanted to be casual, ask her how she was feeling, but she didn’t look like she wanted a drawn out conversation. She was still keeping her distance, practically cowering away, “Do you need something?”

“You’re the one who’s been leaving me things in the infirmary, right?” She kept her head down.

“Well, I...”

The slight wobble in her voice disappeared for but a moment, “This is a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question.” She was being quite serious to speed this up as much as possible.

There wasn’t much point in denying anything, was there? “Yes...” He let his hands fall to his sides, lion doll included. It was foolish to hide it, given the circumstances.

Her gaze flicked down to the plush. “Is  _ that _ another offering then?”

“It is,” He stretched the lion out to her like it was an olive branch of peace. He was internally begging her to take it.

She took a step forward, shaking as she did so. She swiped it from him at a speed he had not anticipated from her, before staring into the doll’s button eyes for a few agonizingly silent moments. Finally she spoke, resigned to the fact that they were having a full conversation, “... Why are you doing all this?”

“I...” He was all too aware that she was now looking up at him. “I didn’t know how to tell you how sorry I am. I frightened you, obviously. You avoided me when I approached you,” He frowned sheepishly, “I suppose I was attempting to... (Y/N). I’m so sorry, for everything.” What was he trying to do? What was he trying to do with all this? To say sorry indirectly? To make her smile, even if it wasn’t at him? What was he doing?! “I’ve been so cruel to you- after all you’ve done for me, I had no right to speak harshly to you and yet-” Was anything he was saying making sense, or had he started to ramble?

“It left bruises, Dimitri.” She pulled the plush in closely, curling in on herself, “When you grabbed me...”

“I-!” He stuck his hand out to catch the wall, suddenly feeling lightheaded. He had physically hurt her. He had left a mark on sweet (Y/N)! “I didn’t mean to..! (Y/N)- I didn’t-”

She answered with a weighty sigh, “I know you didn’t mean to, Dimitri. But you still...” Her fingers were digging into the lion, “Do you have any idea how afraid I was..?”

He couldn’t even begin to imagine that kind of fear. Being attacked by someone who she had never wronged - someone like him - someone with inhuman strength. It was amazing she hadn’t died of fright on the spot. Goddess, “(Y/N) I-” She put up her hand, silencing him, 

“I know you’re sorry.” She took a deep breath, “I know why you said what you did. I’m not mad at you, I’m just...” Her tired eyes fell back to the doll she was holding as tightly as she could, “It hurt, you know?”

Of course he knew. Just thinking about it made him feel ill, the receiving end had to have been even worse. “What can I do to make this up to you?”

“I don’t know.” She was looking to the plush still, as though it was going to give him another answer for her. It did nothing back except look squishy and cute. “Keep bringing me snacks, I guess.”

The Prince wasn’t certain he had heard her correctly. He would genuinely give her anything, or do anything that she wanted, with no objection. If she had told him to gouge out his remaining eye, then he would. If she had wanted the Sword of the Creator, he would have knocked The Professor out, and taken it without hesitation. If she wanted him to pluck the stars down from the sky, then it would be done. She had to have known that. She had to have seen such desperation on his face. “That... That’s all?”

“I like food, Dimitri.”

He hadn’t picked up on it, but she had been calling him by name again. Perhaps he was that noticeably frazzled, that she had taken pity on him. Given the circumstances, that felt painfully ironic. Or maybe now that she was eating again- “Yes, but-”

“No ‘buts,’ I told you what I wanted.” She shrugged, “I know that you are well aware that if you ever hurt me like that again, you’re going to get hit with thunder until your heart stops.”

“Understood, my lady,” He was not in a place to argue. He would obey her without a fight, out of decency, rather than concern over her threat of retaliation. “Would you like anything right now?”

She shook her head, “Me, you, and the doll can eat together after my shift ends.”

His heart felt like it was skipping beats. He didn’t deserve a fraction of the patience and mercy this woman had. Not an ounce. But she had given it to him, and he had no intention of squandering it. She would force herself past whatever fear of him that he had caused, and now it was his job to not let that be in vain. “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey gamers, hows it gaming? Did you know, that if someone wrongs you, you are under absolutely zero obligation to forgive them? If you don't think they deserve it, then don't! This has been 'Life Lessons, with Rachel,'  
> Aight, next week we've got something thats metaphorically fluffy, and then the week after we've got something a bit more literal. I will leave the interpretation of what I mean by that up to you.
> 
> Also, like, wow, sorry if my coherency in these little post scrips starts to deteriorate rapidly in the near future. Because all my course work is remote for the semester, basically the next month or so is just a continuous mid-term season. My brain is meeeelllttttingggg. Remote learning is definitely not for me! I have not been retaining any information in a single one of my classes! Rest assured though, since writing is my stress relief, I think actual requests will be safe from my brain rot.  
> Hope y'all are doing well out there.


	48. An Angel’s Voice:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very sweet request, I think, from Irati. This comes at an opportune moment, because I was thinking about ‘To the Moon,’ a lot recently, and my brain did that word association thing, ‘oh To the Moon? Moon... Azure Moon.’ I am making quite a big step here, including something that is not specifically in universe... The song ‘Everything’s Alright,’ Now if this was the modern AU, I wouldn’t even mention it - that one is fair game - but this one... Well, just don’t be mad at me, okay?

Prince Dimitri never had much of an ear for music. While he had attended operas, and he had listened to plenty of musical performances, and enjoyed them as much as he could, he did not understand the finer points of music. He always did have trouble with such delicate things. Dancing was about the most he could handle without breaking a poor, undeserving instrument. Ah well, he would just have to leave musical talent to those who had a light touch, and softer voices. Singing had been more on his mind than ever before, however. Though he had little interest in the act himself, he had heard something recently that had brought him... Peace? Joy? Either way, it made him feel more positive. There was most definitely a more rational explanation for it, but he was convinced for a short while that he had heard an angel on earth. It had happened a few nights ago, in the cathedral. 

He had once again been stirred by nightmares of things he had no right to, but desperately wished to forget. Of course, he would not allow himself to forget until he caught those responsible. In the meantime though... All he could do was go tire himself out, before trying to sleep again. His tired wanderings brought him across the monastery,

_ “When this world is no more _

_ The moon is all we'll see _

_ I'll ask you to fly away with me _

_ Until the stars all fall down _

_ They empty from the sky _

_ But I don't mind _

_ If you're with me, then everything's alright” _

The words echoed down the pews from somewhere nearby. He felt nothing but warmth in his heart, just from that one verse.

“Oh-! Is someone there?” A gentle voice called from before the altar of Saint Seiros. The speaking voice was just as lovely and melodious as her voice was when she was singing to her heart's content, alone in the dark.

Without thinking, he had ducked behind a pillar and held his breath. It was pure panic, but if she thought he was there, she may have stopped!

She paused for a moment, waiting for a reply that did not come, “I suppose I was imagining things...” Any further thought was interrupted with an airy yawn, followed by a small murmur, “I think it’s time for bed...”

The Prince wanted to slam his head into the pillar, as her light footsteps faded into the distance. He had interrupted an angel in the flesh, and had squandered this almost unfamiliar peace that she had bestowed upon him! What he would not do, to hear such a lovely voice again!

Still, he had managed to go back to sleep that night. In his dreams, he heard her sing again. He could not help but hum that little snippet he had heard to himself as he continued business as usual. The looks he was getting from some of his oldest friends were perplexed. It was fair. He had never acted this way before. He usually had a better grasp on impulses of  _ most _ kinds. Cheerful humming was certainly new.

A few days after His Highness’ late night encounter with an angel, Sylvain came tearing into the classroom, claiming to have seen his own singing seraphim in the market. And yet he hawed on and on, how Dorothea was refusing to let him speak to the girl. The former opera diva had darted through a crowd, just to intercept him from even saying hello. Apparently, the only way she was going to let him go anywhere near the singer, is if he had a chaperone that would be willing to restrain him if he got too close.

That begged two questions. Firstly - how had he missed so much of Sylvain’s nonsense, that people from outside of the class knew about it, and had such grave concerns already? School had not even been in session for that long! Secondly, how did Miss Dorothea know this supposed angel? What was the connection there, and why was the future margrave seen as such a potential danger to her? Who was this songstress?

Of course, Sylvain had turned to begging Felix and the Prince for company to go see the singer. Not Ingrid, no, she would not have humored this escapade. But the young men? Felix would never pass up an opportunity to whack Sylvain upside the head, and Prince Dimitri was viewed as far too uptight to let his friend try anything. However, once they agreed to go later in the afternoon to see if she was still there, some of their other friends asked to tag along. 

“I’ve heard Manuela has been giving the girl who sings in the square private lessons!” Annette in particular was excited at the prospect. Gustave did mention that his daughter had a passion for music... Lessons from the greatest diva of Mittlefrank? Perhaps this young lady was his angel...

It was much less scandalous for the young men to go looking for the singing girl with Annette in tow. It certainly eased Miss Dorothea’s nerves, now that she was tracking Sylvain as the group made their way to town. She certainly knew the singer they were going to see. She smiled at the other woman in the group, but narrowed her eyes at the boys, “You better not bother (Y/N)...”

“Her name is (Y/N)?!” Sylvain exclaimed, his charming grin spread across his face. His smile never seemed to reach his eyes though, did it? “A lovely name for a lovely gi-” The redhead’s aimless compliments were cut short by Felix landing a swift elbow to his friend’s ribs. He was still right about it being a nice name.

_ “Short steps, deep breath _

_ Everything is alright _

_ Chin up, I can't _

_ Step into the spotlight _

_ She said, "I'm sad," _

_ Somehow without any words _

_ I just stood there _

_ Searching for an answer” _

They could hear her before they saw her, as they joined the crowd around her. The Prince’s heart skipped a beat in tune with her song. That was her, his sweet little angel, who had unknowingly sang him back to sleep. He caught himself clenching his fist hard enough to distort his gauntlet.

_ “When this world is no more _

_ The moon is all we'll see _

_ I'll ask you to fly away with me _

_ Until the stars all fall down _

_ They empty from the sky _

_ But I don't mind _

_ If you're with me, then everything's alright” _

Love at first sight was a concept he understood as being quite popular in literature. He only read such a trope on occasion, generally preferring tales of chivalry as opposed to romance, but he was fairly certain that this sensation in his chest was... She was as lovely as her voice, truly.

_ “Why do my words _

_ Always lose their meaning? _

_ What I feel, what I say _

_ There's such a rift between them _

_ He said, "I can't _

_ Really seem to read you." _

_ I just stood there _

_ Never know what I should do” _

Her eyes had a warm shine in them, bright like the sun, and similarly comforting. Before her was a small basket that seemed to be for collecting tips, but all around her, woven into her hair, and in her arms, and around her feet were flowers. Based on the improvised layout, they were tokens she had been receiving from passersby throughout the day.

_ “When this world is no more _

_ The moon is all we'll see _

_ I'll ask you to fly away with me _

_ Until the stars all fall down _

_ They empty from the sky _

_ But I don't mind _

_ If you're with me, then everything's alright _

_ If you're with me, then everything's alright” _

Sylvain had nudged his shoulder, and said something to him with an amused slyness in his tone. “You’re blushing, you know.” Whatever it was, Dimitri had not registered it in the slightest. He was transfixed, amazed and heart broken all at once. How sad, for such a lovely song to be so short.

The young lady took a deep breath, and then she bowed her head, “Thank you for listening, but I think that’s all for today.” She perked up a small bit, and gave the masses a beaming smile.

A group of three children came out from the crowd, and began to help her gather the flowers all around her.

“Oh, aren’t you all just the sweetest! I need to go bring this money to my mother but,” She reached into her little basket, and counted out a handful of gold for each of them, “You can have this for helping me. I’ll see you back at the monastery for dinner, okay?”

The Prince turned to Dorothea, “Does she work at Garreg Mach?”

The songstresses’ scowl fell. She had every reason to be wary of Sylvain’s motives, but not the absolute dork of the prince. She nodded, “Professor Manuela helped her find some work. Now she keeps watch over the orphans that monastery has custody of in the evening,”

Annette clasped her hands together, “Aw, that’s awfully nice, isn’t it?”

It was very nice! And it also explains why he found her in the cathedral that night. She was probably going for a stroll after her charges had gone to sleep. 

The group lingered nearby. Annette wanted to greet this talented young lady, Sylvain likely intended on flirting with her, Dorothea was hellbent on not letting that happen... Felix and Dimitri had no business sticking around - well, Felix didn’t. The prince was racking his brain for any excuse he could possibly use to speak with this girl who had completely captivated him. What could he do to hear her voice again?

There was a blur before them, followed by a yelp. When it passed, the singer was off balanced, having narrowly caught one of the children before she could hit the ground, “Are you alright?!” The flowers in her grasp had scattered about the ground, dropped and forgotten to save the child.

The little girl shook off her bewilderment, “Miss (Y/N), that guy took the basket!”

“I know, but he pushed you! Are you-“

“I’m fine! You have to follow him quick!” The child insisted, “Your mama needs that money, hurry!”

“You three go straight back to Garreg Mach, understood?” The young lady’s face was losing a bit of color due to her sudden nervousness. Even so, she grit her teeth and turned on her heel, before taking off in the fastest sprint she could muster in her long skirt, “Get back here, thief!”

“Damn Boar, where are you going!?” Felix hollered after The Prince.

Dimitri’s feet were already moving, quickly matching his angel, and then outpacing her by a wide margin. The poor lady, singing for the entire day had surely left her exhausted. Taking up a job at the monastery, and busking for cash in the town square... She had needed that money. She needed it, and this dastard was willing to, and had the gall to hurt a child to get it from her!

He had closed the gap between himself and the thief before he had even made it a street away from the square. A rage had begun to boil in him, but he kept it to as low of a simmer as he could. No need to frighten the angel hot on his heels. He snatched the dastard by the collar before he could turn another corner, and then threw him backwards. Not enough to hurt him, just enough to knock the wind out of him for a few moments - enough to make him feel like he was asphyxiating.  _ Good - let him suffer. _ “Stealing from a hard working girl like her... Let this be a lesson to you,” He leaned down, so that only the thief could hear him, “Next time, I’ll just slit your throat. Understood?” The Prince suppressed a shiver as he returned to his senses. That was quite a dark thought, wasn’t it?

“Sto-stop right there..!” Miss (Y/N) caught up finally, panting. For a singer with an astounding lung capacity, she did not seem to be much of a runner. “Oh good, he’s already on the ground...” She hunched over to catch her breath, seeing the situation was more or less diffused.

It was Dimitri’s turn to be unable to speak now. Fool that he was, he had the opportunity to talk to her, to hear that lovely voice, and yet he had nothing to say other than, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just...” She gave him a thumbs up as she lowered herself to the ground, “Tired... Thank you for catching him. You’re real quick!”

She had set about gathering the golden coins that had scattered from the basket. The Prince plucked the basket from the side of the thief, and brought it to the young lady, before kneeling and joining her in her quest to pluck coins that had fallen between the cobble bricks of the street.

“Oh, thank you!” She seemed surprised, as they both reached for the same coin, her fingers brushing over his gauntleted hand. She appeared even more surprised, and just as flustered, when she looked up and realized - “Ah! You- you’re the princ-” She yelped again, bowing her head to him, “I’m so sorry for troubling you, Your Highness!”

“Oh please, there’s nothing to apologize for.” He yanked his hand back, startled by both the gentleness of her touch, and also the sudden shift in her demeanor. “This was no trouble, I assure you. I saw a thief, and so I stopped him. That is all.”

“Even so-”

“(Y/N)!”

“Dorothea?” The girl sighed with relief for some reason, “I thought I saw you in the crowd.”

“Where’s that jerk?!” The former songstress knelt and squished the girl’s face in her hands, “Did he hurt you? Want me to break his arms?!”

“I’m fine, I promise,” Miss (Y/N) giggled, “His Highness stopped the thief before I got here!”

Said robber had made a solid attempt to drag himself away from this growing group, but the newly appeared Felix had his foot on his spine, pinning him in place. “Where do you think you're going?”

“That’s our Prince Dimitri for you.” Sylvain chuckled as he and Annette came around the corner, “Isn’t he such a gentleman?”

Dimitri raised his eyebrows. What could Sylvain possibly be playing at? Nevermind him then. He offered the young lady his hand to help her to her feet. 

She took it hesitantly, and blushed as she did so. Miss Dorothea was now studying The Prince with a sudden new suspicion in her gaze.

“You know what, Miss? You should let His Highness walk you home.” Sylvain’s smirk was back on his face, but this time there was light in his eyes. “He’ll keep you safe. Us Knight’s of Faerghus are all about chivalry.”

Dorothea’s growing suspicion in Dimitri’s direction were allayed, since he was just outwardly confused in regards to what his friend was trying to do for him. He was so visibly puzzled at what Sylvain was implying that she had no fears about leaving her dear friend with him. “That’s not a bad idea. We don’t need another person running off with your money.” The Prince was far too oblivious to have any ill intent.

“Well that would be very kind but-” She was either still looking for coins in the street, or she could not bear to look up at any of the people around her, “I- I wouldn’t want to impose...”

It was Dimitri’s turn to smirk, though his smile was much less nefarious. It was the kindly grin of a perfect prince, though for once it was not forced, “Oh, I don’t mind at all. If you would like company, I will happily go with you.”

It wasn’t until Sylvain clapped him on the back, until he offered Miss (Y/N) his arm, until she quietly thanked him in the sing-song voice of hers, that it occurred to The Prince that he was actually quite a smooth speaker!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I generally do my best to keep all cultural references to in-universe things. The modern AU is an exception, because its an AU, and I can do whatever I want! I think this one was okay. What about you? Did ya like it?
> 
> My school work load is so god damn weird right now. Professors are like - here's three midterms and two papers - but we're not holding class discussions, and I refuse to answer any questions - sink or swim bitches. So like, I have a shit load of time during the day, but my brain is like "BUT DO YOU??? WHAT ABOUT THE THINGS???" Jury is out on 'the things,' uploads should still be consistent though, so that's cool.
> 
> No thoughts, head empty  
> Werewolves next week?  
> Werewolves next week.


	49. Folklore:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from Syl. They said they wanted a one shot where a character was not fully human. And my lizard brain ran with this one piece of werewolf lore that I read on tumblr when I was like 14 (several years ago, thank you very much,) that I thought was the most god damn romantic shit that I had seen to date. It still is. It’s right up there with wilted roses being able to seal a vampire’s coffin shut. How angsty, yet romantic! Why doesn’t that come up in fiction more?! LETS KICK IT BOIS.

There’s a legend in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. There's a lot of legends, actually - uh, it’s kind of a place where the folks really lean into the supernatural. If your loved ones had any regrets at all, they went to hell, and would stay there until someone settled their scores and avenged them. That was a good part of why Prince Dimitri had been acting the way he had! It was ingrained into his beliefs that everyone he lost, everyone he loved, would suffer eternally unless he did something drastic for them. You weren’t a stranger to that folklore either. There was a road in your hometown that winded quite aimlessly, until you realized that it was made around faerie circles. Those kinds of superstitions were woven into the fabric of Faerghus. There are three things that you don’t fuck with. You don’t fuck with fae, you don’t fuck with demons, and you don’t fuck with the church. If you just follow those rules, you’ll be fine. 

Even people like Felix, who scoffed at the mere notion of any paranoia, never walked through a faerie circle, even when dared to. He knew better.

But about that legend- the specific one... Dimitri  _ might _ have been turning into a werewolf? No one was really sure - you sure as hell weren’t! One minute the Kingdom Army is taking back Fhirdiad, all triumphant. You were standing by his side as he greeted his people from the balcony of the palace! The next, His Highness is laying in the monastery infirmary with a hell of a fever, and canine teeth that were a lot pointier than you last remember them being... All you could do was hold his hand, and try to bring his fever down.

According to The Professor, The Prince had been struck by some sort of spell by the witch, Cornelia before she was defeated. It hadn’t done anything in the moment, but knowing her, and the shadowy organization that The Empire was working with, this was a long term plan to fuck with the Kingdom. You and the other medics were under a lot of pressure to try and figure out what the hell was going on, before this situation got worse... Despite your efforts, things were going down hill. Each night he seemed to be in more and more pain as the moon grew more full in the sky. He seemed panicked by it. In one of his more lucid feverish slurrings, he had begged to be taken somewhere dark, somewhere he could be locked away. Despite your own pleading with him, you could not convince him to elaborate on why he could want that for himself.

You felt awful for him... Your poor sweet prince... Your dear fiancé... He had finally been brought back from the brink - back from the spiral of misery and delusion. The cost of it had been great, but it gave him cause to fight harder to live for himself. It felt like a lot of it meant nothing, seeing him in a state of stressed delirium once more.

Ashe was the first person to propose the Werewolf theory out loud. He happened to do so as the former Blue Lions class, sans Dedue, who was keeping an eye on The Prince, had assembled in the cardinals room to discuss what to do. Claude had requested aid in Derdriu, and The Prince had agreed to help, but with Dimitri in his current state...

“Tell me you’re joking,” Felix spat, “Please, tell me you aren’t serious!”

The archer frowned sheepishly, “I know it sounds strange, but I really think it could be-“

“We finally get him back to a civil state, he gets sick, and now you’re spouting nonsense about creatures that don’t exist.” The lordling pinched the bridge of his nose, and bit back the desire to be more harsh.

“I mean... his teeth though..?” Annette chimed in, “I’ve never heard of any sickness that does  _ that _ .”

“Even so, you two automatically jump to werewolves, of all things?”

You silently let those three hash that out, instead opting to rest your head on the table. The room was still so bright, not needing a single candle despite the hour. The moon was so large and full in the sky above the monastery. Fodlan was full of a lot of strange, almost impossible creatures - you yourself had borne witness to men, transforming into demonic beasts against their will. You had seen those moving statues Cornelia had unleashed upon Fhirdiad, living stone with its own autonomy. And of course there was that dragon, not wyvern, but a dragon that had appeared when the monastery was sacked all those years ago. But the Shield’s Successor was drawing the line at lycanthropy.  _ Reasonable. _

Your fiancé had been in rough shape that day.  _ Really rough _ . Everything that came out of his mouth was frantic, and desperate. He had clung to your arms like his life depended on it, and he just kept telling you crazed, over, and over, and over,  _ “(Y/N), I love you..! I’m so sorry, my beloved..! I’m so sorry..! _ ”

You had done all you could to try and calm him. You reassured him that he had nothing to apologize for, as you threaded your fingers through his hair, you had been using your magic to try and force him to sleep, but something was distracting you. 

_ “Run away, my beloved...!”  _ It made your spell less effective, and it took longer for his ravings to surrender to soft sighs of rest. It’s just... something didn’t feel right. His hair, those soft silken strands that you had curled around your fingers numerous times... They felt longer than you remembered them being.  _ “My Be... love...” _

Mercedes wordlessly wrapped her arms around you, and you retreated into her touch. This shit sucked. You tuned into the bickering on the other side of the table. Gilbert and Ingrid were pouring over maps of eastern Fodlan, Sylvain trying to prevent them from letting things get  _ less diplomatic. _

“If the Alliance falls, then we have no more support in the eastern theatre! We can’t keep putting this off!” Ingrid was just short of slamming her hand down on the table. “His Highness does not need to be present on the field!”

“With all due respect Lady Ingrid, it would reflect poorly on his image if he did not-“

“‘His image’?!” The lady knight’s composure seemed to be on the verge of shattering completely, “He has just staged one of the most triumphant territory reclamations in history!”

Sylvain let out a short and quick sigh - but you still caught it, no matter how much he tried to hide it - “She has a point. His Highness is already in the good graces of the public again. He doesn’t need to be with the reinforcements going to Deidru.” The future margrave folded his arms, “Besides, aren’t you the one who’s always scolding him for being on the frontlines?”

The old knight was not given time to retort. The entire room was snapped to attention by shouting from down the hall.

You vaulted the table before anyone else even processed what they were hearing. Dedue- you could hear him yelling out to His Highness in confusion and concern, but he was nearly drowned out by a terrifying growling and roaring! You had moved so quickly, you had nearly overshot the room. Skidding to a halt, you threw yourself into the infirmary, witnessing something that ripped the air from your lungs.

You didn’t know what you were looking at. You had seen wolves in Fodlan, you had also seen Giant Wolves in battle. You had never seen a single one with golden fur. You had also never seen one that still had human-like features, like thumbs, and it’s eyes... dogs could have blue eyes, but not wolves, if you recalled correctly. How the fuck it got into a room on this high floor was beyond you, at the moment. It had Dedue pinned on his back, and as you entered, it had snapped at your friend’s throat. Thankfully, Dedue had blocked it by wedging his forearm into the beast's jaws. Less thankfully, it’s fangs were tearing the poor man’s arm up to the point where the blood was starting to drip back onto him.

You snapped back to your senses, shrieking out “Dedue!” Before you rushed the creature, slamming into it full force with your shoulder. The result was slightly better than running into a wall, managing to knock it off the man, but you were bounced backward all the same, landing unceremoniously on your arse.

The stalwart vassal had recovered quickly, and using his good arm, he yanked you behind him, shielding you in case the beast regained its bearings just as fast. “Your H-!“

His words were drowned out by the rest of the gang’s footsteps clambering into the room. As they appeared in the doorway, the wolf(?)’s eyes dilated, with an agonized roar -  _ roar _ , not  _ howl _ , more like a groan of pain - it whirled around, and launched itself out the window, shattering the glass.

“What the  **fuck** was that?!” Foul language aside, you had asked what everyone was thinking. You didn’t even think to go check where the beast landed, if it was even alive after such a drop. You were far more concerned about the absence of your fiancé from his cot, “Where- Where is Dimitri?!”

“That...” You could not name a time where you had seen Dedue Molinaro in a state of shock. He was always impressively stoic, no matter the circumstances. Always calm, always collected. Taciturn to begin with, he was struggling to find the words as he stared down at his shredded arm with a hollow gaze. “That- That...” He has been reduced to stammering for the moment.

Mercedes barged in, and immediately set to work on fixing him up. That left you and the others to quickly use context clues to figure things out. The blanket, now discarded and tattered, had claw marks all through it. How did that thing get in the room..? Shreds of the clothing Dimitri had been wearing were scattered around. How did that thing get in the room? You managed to pull yourself off the floor, going to the window, which had been closed until the beast had broken out; it was nowhere in sight, not even a heap of fur and guts below. How did it get in the room?! You grabbed The Prince’s cape from off the floor. It had been draped over a chair, but it must have been knocked to the ground by the creature. Dedue wouldn’t have let it get anywhere near Dimitri if it came from outside- Why were his clothes everywhere? Where did he go?!

“That was...” Dedue cleared his throat. With his arm fixed, Mercie was thumbing away the blood that had dropped onto his cheek in the earlier skirmish. “That  _ was _ His Highness.”

You looked up from your fiancé’s cloak, jaw slightly ajar. You found yourself watching Felix and Ashe lock eyes from across the room. After a moment, the lordling quietly growled out a  _ “Son of a bitch...” _

Werewolf theory it was then. Score one for Ashe, you supposed. The Professor ordered a search party to be formed.

“Lady (Y/N), I do not think it is wise for you to be out here.” You had never gotten the feeling before that point, but after you formalized your engagement to Prince Dimitri, you could not help but feel like Gilbert Pronislav did not like you very much. Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t like you, or trust you - rather you just had a sneaking suspicion that you weren’t the caliber of person he believed should take the position of Queen Consort, once this damnable war finally ended. On one hand, you were a commoner, who lacked the necessary teachings to jump right into governance; on the other hand, you and Dimitri’s love for each other was incredibly sincere, and keeping you apart would be a crime - and also shut the fuck up,  _ Gilbert - if that is your real name _ , that’s why royals have advisors! “If something were to happen to you... The despair that I fear could befall His Highness could-“

“That pain goes both ways, sir.” You put a hand over your heart. Your chest had felt tight since the realization had dawned on you, “If I lose him, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself...”

“If that is how you feel, my lady, then I will not stop you...” The old man let out a heavy sigh. Was this conversation making him realize his own lack of devotion to his own wife? Oh yeah, that’s right jackass, Professor Byleth spilled all the tea on that whole debacle to you!

Your other hand was nervously clutching your still unlit torch. Dimitri...  _ Oh Goddess, Dimitri... _ He wouldn’t have attacked Dedue like that, under any circumstances. That led you to the assumption that The Prince had not recognized his most trusted vassal after transforming. If he didn’t realize he was attacking someone so dear to him, what would stop him from tearing into an innocent? Would he recognize Felix, Sylvain or Ingrid? Would he recognize The Professor?  _ Would he recognize you? _

That was a horrifying thought... Dedue had a shot at defending himself, but if Dimitri attacked you, you were practically a guaranteed 1-hit kill, knowing his strength. You curled further into his cloak. You had brought it with you, as well as a satchel of other clothing for him. You figured that since he shredded what he was wearing when he turned, that he would need something to go back to the monastery in, be it in the evening, or when he (hopefully) turned back into a human at dawn. You had seen each other undressed plenty of times, when you were alone with each other - but that did not give every person in the search party the right to see your future husband’s absolutely bangin’ bod. **Not on your watch!**

There was also a legend in Faerghus - er, as previously established there were  **a lot** of legends - but now that one was absolutely confirmed true, you were compelled to believe some of the other mythos around this whole werewolf thing was true as well. Supposedly, if someone who truly loved the Lycanthrope called out to them, then they would return to their human form. It was difficult to argue that few people loved The Prince nearly as much as you did. You had every right to be here, aside from your utility. You would bring him home, no matter what.

Byleth struck a flint, lighting your torch for you. You thanked him quietly, and with that, the search began. You were sticking with him, and the old man, winding your way through the forest outside of the fortifications of the towns surrounding Garreg Mach. It wasn’t difficult to narrow down the way to go. Less than thirty minutes after the beast had thrown itself from the window, frantic civilians had come shrieking to the knights about a golden wolf, tearing through the countryside, snarling at anything that it got near. So far, no one had gotten hurt, and the party had found an idea of where to begin. All good.

Well it was all good until an arrow hit you in the shoulder, and knocked you down an embankment. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Your good arm slammed into the ground repeatedly, once you finally rolled to a halt. That hurt like a bitch! Your only saving grace was that the shaft of the arrow had snapped early on in your tumble, preventing it from hitting something and embedding itself deeper, “Byleth, it’s an ambush!” You cried out to him, struggling to get back on your feet. Dimitri’s cloak had broken your fall, but you were still rattled.

“(Y/N), start running, they’re Imperials!” The Professor hollered back down to you. You could hear steel clashing from where you were, and you knew the fighting had begun. This was planned - whatever this disaster was, someone had arranged for this. They predicted The Prince would run. They predicted that his officers would pursue. They had aimed for you first.

You had gotten up to your knees, and retrieved your torch, which had luckily fallen with you. Start running though? That was going to be tough... On the edge of the light you could see the shadows moving closer to you. They might have been fighting Imperials up top, but you weren’t. You could see masks, and curved beaks on those - like those creeps with Cornelia in Fhirdiad. They weren’t trying to kill you - you’d be long dead if they were. So they wanted you alive then... You grit your teeth, desperate to ignore the pain in your arm, raising your good one to fire Aura down into where you thought most of them were.

That should have distracted them well enough, you got your footing, and then you stumbled for your life through the destruction you had wrought, deeper, and deeper into the woods, and farther and farther from people who could protect you.

It **should have** distracted them. You could hear people pursuing you, and you weren’t moving fast enough. You had some leaves and twigs in your hair that kept hitting you in the face, and your shoulder still had the rest of the arrow lodged in it. Goddess, you were so sick of this shit already. “Oh, will you assholes just  **piss off** !” You let loose another Aura, nuking another small grove of trees. In some sick twist of fate for your crimes against nature, you tripped over a root, and found yourself back on the forest floor. This time, you completely lost grip on your light source, and any ground you had gained with your explosive stunts.

Your sweet fiancé’s cloak did not help hide you much, with its royal blue. Even through the tree canopy, the full moon lit the sky... And made you painfully obvious to your pursuers. Oh dear, you were also bleeding all over it - stupid arrow wound!

“Stay right where you are!” One of the shadowy mage people snapped, stomping a foot on to your back.

“Professor, hel-!” Another one kicked you in the ribs.

“Quiet you!”

“Profess-” You dared to try again, only to be met with another kick, “Fuckin’ bastard!”

“Tie her hands. We don’t need her casting any more spells and drawing attention this way.” You were about to keep screeching for your allies as they pulled you up, but the shadowy man in charge took whatever staff he was holding, and he whacked you upside the head. “Find something to gag her with too.”

That rattled you about twice as much as your fall down the embankment. You had definitely bitten the inside of your cheek, and you were also probably slightly concussed now. In other words, you were disoriented enough for them to pin your hands behind your back, behind your dearest Dima’s cloak. You groaned in pain, the movement irritating the arrow wound. You felt them wind something around your wrists. That wasn’t rope, that was... twine? You shook your head, trying to shrug them off. “Bastards...” You grumbled, “The hell are you trying to pull?!”

Villains in stories always love monologuing, talking shit, gloating. You didn’t expect the real ones to actually do the same. This dumbass just... popped the fuck off? You didn’t know how else to describe it. He seemed so pleased with this plan of his, he just  **had** to tell you in vivid detail. He was so goddess damn excited to tell you how he had conspired with Cornelia on this elaborate werewolf scheme, how he intended to use you to lure the beastly prince out of cover and then kill you both - or let the last thing Dimitri does be killing you, and then slaying his beastly form, ending the Blaiddyd royal line in one fell swoop.

“Saints, fuckin’ preserve me... That’s it? That’s your master plan to get rid of him?” Once your head stopped throbbing, you looked that man dead in the eye as his cohorts got some actual rope to tie you to another tree, “That’s so- You people are fucking idiots!” They were fucking with the church. They were fucking with fae. They were fucking with demons. And they dared to try and fuck with you?! If you were getting damseled, then you were gonna talk shit - you were going to to verbally destroy these bitches, “Seriously- What the fuck were you going to do if he  **didn’t** break out of the monastery? What was the plan there?” These fuckers were so overdramatic! When did good old assassination go out of style?

“Well- I- we-”

“Goddess above, I don’t care, dumb ass!” If this wasn’t a potential life or death situation, you would have rammed your head through the poor tree that you were tied to. You were that annoyed, “You’re stupid- you people are just stupid!” You felt no fear in your barrage of insults. They didn’t want to be the ones to kill you, they wanted to let your fiancé do you in - there was no risk in giving them a piece of your mind.

“Didn’t I tell someone to gag her?!” The masked man shouted to his stunned cohorts.

“Your fuckin’ mum wasted nine months creatin’ ya and ya still turned out fuckin’ daft as hell-” You had not intended to slip into a heavy Ithan accent as your raved, but off you went. Sadly they did find a strip of cloth to muffle your tirade. 

For some reason unknown to you, he also took a knife, and made a small cut on your throat.

You spent the next hour or so gnawing on the cloth so that you could scream out for your friends when they least expected it. Your timing could not have been better. You had managed to spit it out, and free one of your hands from its binding behind your back, as that ghastly scream-roar you had heard back in the monastery rang out in the night air.

“He’s coming this way, sir..!” One of the shadow soldiers whispered from somewhere in the dark. “The blood drew him out, just as you planned.”

Dimitri hadn’t turned back yet? Well, what were you expecting..? Dawn was still a long ways away, and with all the fighting happening somewhere up hill, there wasn’t much going on that could settle him down. Also, holy shit, was that why they cut your neck? They were planning on making him tear out your throat? That was so metal, but also really awful sounding! “Dimitri! It’s a trap, run!”

Despite your warning, a golden beast with blue eyes came tearing into the thicket where you were tied. It dove quickly off to the right, and you heard terrified screaming from some of your captors. The blur crossed your sight again, massacring the ones hiding on the left. You tried desperately not to sympathize with the screams of the men being mauled, given what they were up to but... That sound was chilling to say the least. The next time you saw the wolf creature clearly and unobstructed, he had the leader's neck in his jaws. He dropped the dead man a good fifteen feet in front of you. The body landed with a dull thud. A showing that you had nothing to fear? Yes! Surely, since he had saved you from these bastards! But then why was he still looking at you the way he was?

“Dimitri, that was dangerous..!” You wiggled your good arm out of it’s bindings, waving him over, “It was an obvious ambush, you aren’t hurt, right?” You were keeping your voice quiet and soothing, as you used Physic on him just in case.

You could hear a whining wheeze, coming from the beast as it appeared to exhale. He rose off of all fours, moving closer to you.

“Back on your feet already?” You smiled. It was reassuring. Yes, you loved him dearly, and you had called out to him, just as the legend required you to do. Thank the Goddess, he knew who you were! You needed serious medical attention, with the arrow, the concussion, and the cut on your neck. “Can you untie me so we can go home already?”

He took your hand in his paw, or claw, or whatever the hell it was, and he leaned down to get a good look at you.

“I-I brought you some clothing, just in case.” They left your bag with you. You grunted a bit, as his grip on you increased, “Di-Dima, that- that hurts...” Your fingers twitched, “You recognize me, right...?”

With a growl, his starving gaze dipped from your eyes, down to your throat. That action alone made you realize something that shook you to your core. He had  _ no fucking clue _ who you were. His only thought must have been that he didn’t have to kill you instantly because you were tied up.

“Stop tha- Let go!” His claws were digging into you by that point, “Dimitri, we have- we have to go home!”

His maw, and those new jagged teeth of his were practically on your neck. He was completely unresponsive to any and all of your pleading.

You thrashed away from him as best you could, flailing against the rope to no avail. “It’s me! Dimitri! It’s me!”

It must have made it harder for him to take a decent bite out of you. In response, he pinned your wrist against the tree, still nearly crushing it, and as an added measure to keep you nice and still, he took your hair in his other vicious claw and he yanked on it if you squirmed in the slightest. His breath burned - it burned like your shoulder wound was as you fought.

“Dima! It’s (Y/N)! It’s me!” Your voice grew shrill with your fear. “It’s (Y/N)!”

**_“... Be?”_** And just before he could dig into your flesh, he froze. **_“... Be... lo... ved?”_** The blue eyed beasts grip on you loosened, and he almost slumped into you, **_“My... (Y/N)...”_**

“Dima..?!” Goddess above, the last fucking thing you needed was him getting any closer to you after he tried to  **eat you!** “Please tell me you’re turning back..!”

You got a grunt in response, and it did not reassure you in the slightest.

“Everyone is waiting for us...” You no longer felt claws gouging you, you felt something definitely more like a human hand, and that one totally made you feel better. You managed to shift enough to kind of look down at him, and as far as you could tell he did look like a man again but... Dog ears? Boy had dog ears! 

“My Beloved...” He continued to murmur into you, sounding progressively more and more like himself.

“Yup, thats me...” You were fuckin’ going through it, internally. After all those times you had noted to yourself that your fiancé often behaved like a puppy, or an irate stray, or a loveable and snuggly senior dog, and he had DOG EARS?!?! “Can you untie me now?”

“Yes... Yes..!” He took a very deep breath and straightened up, and without any effort, he began to snap the rope binding you, “Forgive me, my beloved I-,”

He didn’t need to apologize, you weren’t upset with him, just shaken up. You would have told him that, had you not covered your eyes, and blindly dug into your bag “P-Put your clothes on, idiot!” You threw what you had brought at him. You were hoping the moon, which had been keeping this forest so bright this whole time, was not letting your blush show. You had seen him undressed - alone, in private. Not in the middle of the woods, after all the shit that had gone down, nooooo thank you!

“Ah-” He seemed to realize the situation, and cleared his throat, once he was ready.

“You done?”

“Yes.”

You threw yourself at him, burying your face in his chest, “Don’t scare me like that ever again!”

“(Y/N)...” He curled his arms around you in turn.

“We’re going home! And you’re gonna apologize to Dedue for biting him, understand?!” You looked up to pout at him. He still had the doggy ears. Having gotten a clear view of them, you would admit they were quite cute, even if they did droop as it dawned on him that he had hurt his friend. Those were going to be  _ real fun _ to explain to everyone...

“I suppose that is the best course of action...” 

“No one is mad at you for this, Dima.” You took his hand in yours. Warm, and human, “Lets go calm their worries, okay?” And also get you some medical attention, but you let's not be selfish now. 

Like a loyal spaniel, he followed as you led the way back to the monastery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this... The Halloween Chapter? Yeah, wow, this is basically the Halloween Special. Aight, cash, ya love to see it. Thanks for requesting Syl, I hope you liked it!
> 
> How are you all doing out there? My brain is still melting, s2g. But, HALLOWEEN. No parties, but candy, and spooky movies! I'm actually a really big fan of horror movies, gothic literature, the macabre in general. Makes me feel more undead, you know? Keeps me going. 
> 
> Stay safe out there!


	50. Early Failures:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, you can have this a lil bit early, because I promised my roommate that I'd read Hamlet to her while she draws. I get really into Shakespeare, so I'll be at that for a few hours.
> 
> This one is for CraftyGal. Despite being from a Kingdom merchant family, our dear reader goes to join the Golden Deer House. Prince Dimitri is not taking these repeated losses as well as he initially thought he was.

Dimitri wasn’t mad at them, per say. If being in another class helped them learn and improve, then he couldn’t have been more happy for them. Still he felt a bit melancholic, not being on missions, and spending free time with the people that he loved and trusted the most. He couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t doing enough. He simply did what he always had done. He faked a smile, wished them well, and did his best to carry on. He could handle Ashe, Annette and Mercedes leaving. He could even handle Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix not being at his side. Dedue wouldn’t leave him. Never. And he had been under the impression for months that Miss (Y/N) would have never left his side. 

The merchant’s daughter relied on him far too much to leave him. She was far too soft hearted for what the church demanded the students do. She was a civilian - they couldn’t make her kill. Not on his watch. He would rather let his hands continue to be stained with blood, than let a single drop land on hers. He made it another personal mission, to protect and fight for her - especially with how she had acted after their first assignment.

It was only killing bandits. It was only killing killers, and yet she could not bring herself to cast a single spell, even as they cornered her, blades drawn. He had slaughtered them for their aggression. He had to hold her hair back as she wretched, the overwhelming scent of blood making her nauseous.

Every battle from that day was the same. He would keep killing so that she never had to. She healed instead. She much preferred it.

“Your Hi- I- I mean- Dimitri...” It came as a genuine shock, when she stood before him after class, wringing her hands, unable to meet his eye, “Would... Would you be upset if I joined the Golden Deer as well?”

_ Yes. _ Without explanation, yes. He thought she had needed him... Why was everyone leaving him? What was he doing to drive all these people away? What was he doing wrong?! He tried so desperately to keep masking all this anxiousness in his chest. She had to have had her reasons. “Now, why would I be upset?”

“Well I... I mean everyone...” When they had first met her eyes had been so bright. She was a painfully naive person, but such innocence was quite endearing. Her gentle soul was what drew him to her. She deserved protecting. Now her gaze was hollow, and tired, and if he stared at her for too long he was able to spot strands of grey in her hair. He could shield her from any physical blow that came their way, but the damage to her peace of mind and optimistic outlook had been done, “The class is already getting a bit smaller, isn’t it..?”

“Is that all?” He feigned a smile even though he felt like he was being stabbed in the heart. He took her fragile hands in his to keep her from clawing her palms open, reminding himself that she might as well have been made of glass, “Do whatever you would like, my lady, as long as it brings you happiness.”

“Thank you for understanding, Dimitri...” She paused for a moment, before suddenly throwing her arms around him. Oh, a hug. He hesitantly returned the gesture, trying not to let his awkwardness show. She was warm, and she fit just right in his arms. Was he never going to feel this again?

_ As long as she is happy... _ As long as she was happy, he would grin and bear this separation like he did with everything else in his life that caused him pain.

It wasn’t as though they never saw each other. (Y/N) still frequently asked him to tea, and to eat with him, never shying from him because of his status, and their daily seperation. But not having her copying her notes off of his during class hurt. Not having her heal his bumps and bruises, quite literally hurt. Still, who was he to complain? Just because he enjoyed her company, it did not mean he was entitled to it. Not at all.

He looked down at his chamomile. He liked that type of tea on principle, even if he couldn’t discern anything about it outside the temperature. It helped his headaches, it helped him sleep. It wasn’t doing that much these days, however. Ever since he had heard of what occurred in Remire, the night terrors were getting worse. He could feel the flames of Duscur once more. He could hear the screams again. Why did everyone leave him somehow? What was he doing wrong?! ... Tea wasn’t fixing things anymore. “How are you liking the Golden Deer? Are they treating you well?” They better have been. If  _ that Professor _ and Claude weren’t giving her a warm welcome, well, he might just need to have some strong words with them!

“Oh, everyone has been very nice to me!” She took a polite sip of her tea. Her eyes were looking brighter these days. That was good. She was happy. That's all he wanted. “The Professor has been especially accommodating to me with how... Er... You know how I am.”

“Well, that's very good to hear...” His tea was getting cold, since he had hardly touched. He couldn’t find much motivation to swallow any of it. “It occurred to me recently, I never did ask why you transferred.” Ah. He was forgetting his manners. He corrected himself quickly, “Then again, I suppose it's none of my business, is it?”

“No, no. It was a sudden departure, it's fine to be curious.” She paused for a moment, and set her tea down, staring at it hesitantly like he had been doing this whole time. “Professor Byleth... He promised me I would not be forced to fight in his class.” She gave him one of the most uncomfortable chuckles he had ever heard, “Can you imagine? After months of begging Professor Hanneman to not send me out, Byleth ends it in one swoop.”

“I should have stepped in sooner.” He blurted out suddenly. He winced. As much as he did not want to let such a thought slip, it was true. If he had spoken on her behalf sooner, perhaps she would not have felt compelled to leave his side. Such a small failure, to not stand for her, and look at what it had gotten him.

“Don’t trouble yourself on my behalf, Dimitri.” She let out a huff. Was he not treating her like the grown woman she was? “It was a very large part of my decision, but it wasn’t the only factor.”

“Oh?” So there was more to it then? Had he failed somewhere else as well? Never once could he let this mask he wore slip off in front of her. Not her. He was her perfect prince, not the languishing and selfish man that had the dead scream at him night and day, “May I ask what those factors were?

“The Alliance... it's so...  _ loose _ compared to Faerghus, don’t you think?” She tapped the table, urging herself to think faster and elaborate for him, “If I make connections there, I think I could go see more of the world...” 

“It sounds like you want to leave the Kingdom entirely...” He held back the instinct to lean across the table, to get in her face and coax out more information. This wasn’t an interrogation! He had no right to be frustrated at her wanting to leave home - Home was a mess, and it was his job to fix it - and if he fixed it, maybe she wouldn’t ever want to leave-

“Ha! Not at all! I love my country too much... But think of what I can learn on the Kingdom’s behalf with that kind of jumping off point - all the wonders of the world I can learn about, and then share with you when I’d get back!” It was her who leaned across the table. She let out a much more jovial giggle as she reached out to grab his hands. “All the better to serve my king-to-be with, don’t you think?”

“We-well I...” He cleared his throat. Perhaps he was reading into it too much, but such phrasing was a bit forward, wasn’t it? Was it getting warmer in here? “I see you have your reasons.”

“No matter where I am Dimitri, I stand by my home, and I stand by you. Always.”

“Always...” He echoed. Her words were honest. His sweet (Y/N) would never tell a lie. And yet, somewhere, in the darkest part of his heart, he doubted her. Something was coming. Sides were going to be chosen. And they weren’t going to be together. What a painful thought. He kept up his fake smile. He would not burden her with troubles beyond her control. He just wanted her to stay happy, as she had been since she had joined the Gold Deer. “How very kind of you, my lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, happy fiftieth, gang. Hot damn. I've been at this for quite some time, haven't I?
> 
> God my brain is still liquid lads. We're in that mid semester slump at uni, rona isn't helping anyone. The only things occupying my mind are JWRI, Hyrule Warriors news, and The Dream SMP (Minecraft is cool again? Makes me feel young!)
> 
> I don't know if I'm running out of steam, or if I'm just tired because of exams. Oh well. I'll definitely still tackle my current requests, out of courtesy. Lets see how it goes. Have a goodnight, everyone.


	51. Growing Pains:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for Anime_hotty_love_24! My goodness, Miss Reader has grown up quite a bit while His Highness was gone, and now he’s starting to notice...

With the passage of time, people grew. That was true in a literal, and metaphorical sense. It was also visibly true of him. Once about equal with them, now he towered over everyone, looking down despite his disdain with such a practice, with exception of Sylvain and Dedue. He was eye level with the former, and was comforted by the stature and strength of the latter. Dimitri had also done a great deal of the less tangible, but tremendously significant personal growth. The embers of hatred that once burned and raged in him had finally settled enough. They could flair from time to time, but he was in a place now where he understood that it was only human to be angry, within reason.

He wasn’t the only person who had grown up over these miserable years. He hadn’t quite noticed it, in the month proceeding, but now that he had calmed down a little he was becoming increasingly aware of Lady (Y/N), and just how much she had changed.

Her heart had grown, with the mercy she offered the injured, and the affection she had given to him. He loved her so much, and she was cute as a button, as the saying goes. _Also she was hot now._ Ah. That was odd, where did that come from? _Ahem._ Yes. In addition to being lovely at heart, (Y/N) had also er- _developed_. Despite having been around her as the war had raged on around him, he had failed to notice such things. Tunnel vision and all that. Now that he had calmed down a bit, he was slightly more _aware._

When he held her in his arms, her chest would press up against him, and he had to be very wary of how he touched her, not only because of his strength... There was a considerable amount of temptation to...  _ let his hands wander. _ Especially to her hips and her thighs, especially around other people. Restraint was the name of the game. The lady did not belong to him, but the thought of other men daring to lay a hand on her made him furious. Those cretins did not know how to treasure her as he did. They could not begin to understand how much they needed to appreciate how sweet she could be, and how intelligent and forward thinking she was,  _ and they could not ever appreciate the blessings the goddess had given her body like he could. _

_ Ahem!  _ Right then! His current mission, now that he had proposed to his beloved (Y/N), was justifying their engagement to some more... Conservative of his supporters. People were well aware just how much he loved his lady. But, their union was not exactly a strong political move on the surface.

He had a rather solid line of thinking to convince the lords and ladies, in a way that made it difficult for them to refute him without looking rather insulting themselves. And after all that had happened, it would be a poor choice for them to be rude to him while he still had such much sway over the military.

He was already picturing the conversation with Gustave specifically, and he had been rehearsing the inevitable encounter in his head over, and over, and over again. The old knight found (Y/N) to be amicable, but his first critique would no doubt be,  _ “Your Highness, she does not have the family backing for such a union,” _

And Prince Dimitri’s response would be decidedly, “ _ My authority is enough,” _ Because  _ it was. _ He would be king. His word would be plenty to legitimize her.

And then Gustave would likely make an argument that the lady would be troubled by the court, because she was not a crest bearer. Courtly folk would look down on her, surely!

Dimitri would scoff at the mere mention. _ “Crests have no bearing on a person's worth. If they think otherwise, then they have no right to be a part of my administration.” _

The point would come, he knew for certain when the word ‘commoner’ would fall from the old knight’s lips with a mild amount of concern. Not disdain. Gustave was better than that. But still, there was a degree to which he looked down on them. He was old fashioned in that regard.

As far as His Highness was concerned, it was for the best that (Y/N) was a common woman. It meant she had a degree of freedom. It meant that she was more worldly. She was also less likely to be so frail  _ evident by her already existent physique. _

That was a genuine concern of his, especially because as queen she would be expected to produce an heir and...

Dimitri’s birth mother had been a very delicate noblewoman. Very, very thin, and fragile, as he had been told. It was not the wisest decision to wed someone like that to a family known for frightening strength, was it? But it had been done, and as far as he was aware, the marriage was an amicable one. Still, the Queen Consort, was weak to begin with, and after he was born her health had declined rapidly.

The Queen stood no chance against the plague that had swept through Faerghus. Especially because of him.

He loved his fiancee more than anything, and would not be able to live with himself if he ever brought about her end like that. Now, that type of damage was not a concern he held because of the _ figure _ that (Y/N) had cut. She could have handled a Blaiddyd pregnancy, he was certain.

Now what was the best way he could articulate this to another person other than flat out say,  _ “Well, you see my friend, she has good birthing hips.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dima this chapter be like, “My Lady, you are thicker than a serving of oatmeal.” Somewhere else Sylvain feels a chill run down his spine...  
> This one is shorter gamers. I am in the midst of midterms as of drafting this, because God is punishing me for my hubris, and my work is never finished.
> 
> Two Active Requests, but I don't think I'm accepting more for now. Lotta busy work out here in Real World in Which Miss Rachel Lives.  
> Ah, c’est la vie. Have a good night.


	52. Well, What Did You Expect?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from Merc. Did you know, that if you are a mean person, no one is obligated to love you? Damn, Your Highness, shoulda thought of that, huh?

Lady (Y/N) was widely regarded as a woman with close to infinite patience. As far as most of the Blue Lions could recall, they had never seen her particularly frustrated over anything. Stressed or depressed, sure, just about everyone in the monastery was one or both of those things. But  _ angry _ . No one had ever seen her genuinely furious.  _ Until very recently _ , when Mercedes watched her nearly throttle Prince Dimitri.

His Highness was being rather impatient with the medics treating him after the last battle. Goddess knew that the infirmary was chaotic enough without the delusion prince snapping at people for not dealing with him quick enough, or not doing things to his liking. People were terrified of him. Everyone knew that he could be a monster, if he felt like it. But, one person didn’t exactly care.

“Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd..!” (Y/N) threw a clump of bandages down in a sudden snap of irritation from the normally neutral lady. “Will you just  _ quit it! _ ”

The Prince stopped his rather unnecessary snapping, but instead began to snarl in the lady’s direction.

“Quiet! What room are you in right now?” She was having none of it, even after he grit his teeth and kept his mouth shut, “Where are we?!”

He finally begrudgingly replied, “The infirmary...”

“Wow! The infirmary!” She put her hands on her hips, and feigned shock. “And I’m a doctor here, so that must mean you’re a patient right?” She leaned down, getting in the seething prince’s face, her own expression twisted with frustration. “What are patients supposed to do when they’re in the infirmary..?”

His Highness was taking breathes so deep, his chest was heaving. Most of the medics in the room had stumbled back, thoroughly convinced he was going to seize the young medic by the throat, and choke the life from her. He made no such movements. He wouldn’t fucking dare.

“Patients are supposed to sit down,  **shut the fuck up** , and let doctors do their job.” Lady (Y/N) did not back down. She knew he wouldn’t lay a hand on her. She brought her own hand to his cheek, and gently brushed away a splotch of blood from the fighting. She wasn’t mad at him. She was just disappointed. That was all the more frustrating. “You can do whatever you want when you leave. But when you are in this room, you will behave yourself.” After a pause, she let out a heavy sigh, “Are we clear..?”

The room watched in abject horror, still thinking that (Y/N) had dug her own grave, only for Prince Dimitri to snap his gaze down to the floor, grumbling out a quiet, “... Crystal.”

“Thank you kindly.”

And that was that.

The Prince was quietly treated, sent on his way, and it was made quite clear that the lone child of House (L/N) was not to be trifled with. Especially in her most critical work space.

Despite their standoff earlier in the day, Lady (Y/N) dutifully made her way to His Highness’ side, finding him in the cathedral after her shift finally ended. Her greeting was punctuated with a yawn, exhausted from a very tiring day, “How are you holding up?”

He acknowledged her with a slight glare over his shoulder. Harsh, but frankly more attention than he gave just about anyone else that he wasn’t barking orders at.

“Cool, me too.” She blinked away her tiredness as best she could. She was personally amused by the pretend small talk she made with him, in place of him giving her actual answers, which would likely be irritated hisses of ‘go away,’ and ‘leave me alone,’ Her other job was very important. She had the essential role of acting naturally near The Prince so no one outside of the war counsel suspects how... not all there he was. “It’s been a long day...”

It was infuriating to him, the lack of fear this woman felt towards him. She was in his way. It was difficult to hear the dead when she spoke, and nothing he did to scare her off ever seemed to work. They had been so close when they were younger. He could hardly bear the idea of her getting hurt because she tried to keep things that way, despite it being a clear detriment to her. “...”

She sighed, and her sigh shook the earth with how dejected she sounded. All his fault, of course. “So, I...”

“... Leave me alone.” He grumbled. Softer than he spoke to most people. He had already upset her once today, best not to test her patience again.

“Dimitri...” She folded her arms, duty bound to watch over him for a short while, “You know I can’t exactly do that yet.”

“I don’t want you here..!”

Her face scrunched into a frown, and he felt his throat tighten. “Again, you know I can’t leave... Not yet anyway.”

“How long do you insist on tormenting me with your presence?!”

She looked up to the hole in the ceiling, gauging where the sun was in the sky. She squinted a bit, and then looked back to him, “Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes?” She hesitated, “Yeah... I think that’s enough.”

The Prince had to take care not to grind his teeth. He stopped looking at her.

“Glad you think that’s okay.” (Y/N) took her place at his side, making it look like they were enjoying a quiet chat together. “Got a letter this morning. One of my friends from home is joining our troops.”

“...”

“He’s a real nice guy - acts a lot like Ashe. I think you’d like him. His name is-.”

He was trying to hold his words back, but they escaped him despite his best efforts, “I don’t care.”

“Rude.” She rolled her eyes, “He’s me and my old man’s favored suitor. Don’t be as mean to him as you’re being to me, if I ever try to introduce you.”

“Don’t try.” The favored suitor? What in the Goddesses’ name was she thinking, bringing such a thing up to him? What about them- No. No, no, no, no, no! He didn’t care! He could not have cared less!

Her hands twitched, from the corner of his eye. “You know what? Okay.  _ Fuck it. _ See you later.” She spun on her heels, and she left the cathedral in a huff.

Dimitri felt like a fool, getting such a reaction from her. It took so much to irritate someone like her, and he had gotten her there almost effortlessly.

_ Nikolai Volkov _ was his name.  _ ‘Nikki!’ _ (Y/N) would call gleefully to him whenever she caught sight of him. The Prince had never spoken to him personally, other than a quick order here or there. But Lady (Y/N) was with him constantly. Constantly. Constantly.

She even started to spend less time with Dimitri. She would come to his side later than normal, or would leave him earlier than expected all because  _ “I promised Nikki that I...” _ That they would go to town together, or they were having tea, or she was going to tutor him in healing magic so he could help his fellow troops in an emergency.

And it was clear that she was much happier with such an arrangement. The light in her eyes had been getting brighter, the less time she was spending with The Prince.

Her eyes were the brightest when they had announced their engagement together. It was a good bit after Dimitri had... simmered down a little. There was nothing he could do, but congratulate them, and wish them happiness for the rest of their lives together. The damage he had dealt to his and (Y/N)’s relationship together had been done. He loved her so, and yet she had slipped away because of his behavior.

Well, what did he expect? What did he think she was going to do? Stand by and take his ilk? Wait for him to  _ calm down _ ? No. She moved on. She moved on to someone who treated her with respect no matter the circumstances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This next request is... Taking me longer than usual. Sorry, school work is rightfully taking priority, but it's def taking its toll on me. As well as the current state of the... Well, everything.
> 
> Keep your god damn masks on in public.
> 
> Currently not taking requests due to present work load.


	53. "Alright, Dearest,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, Irati out here askin’ for smut. I’m like a long lost member of a gang of thieves getting called back in after a long absence for one last heist, except instead of a heist, it’s smut fanfiction. Ngl, kinda hate writing smut to this day Bleh. Welp, Irati asked nicely, so you know what? They can have this one. Because asking nicely gets you places. HERE WE GO.

The relationship was known to a certain circle, but kept on the quiet side, much like one of it’s participants. People did not need to know about her bond with His Highness, that she somehow managed to form when he was at his worst. Maybe the Monastery’s favorite volunteer nurse earned his appreciation by being less disruptive to his brooding than other people were. That appreciation had continued long after he had settled down. It was apparent to those close to The Prince, that he was genuinely fond of Miss (Y/N).

The closest of all to the two were aware that they were dating, and had been doing so for a few months, as the war winded it’s way to a close. They weren’t necessarily hiding it, and the more observant could catch them holding hands, or even sharing a quick kiss here and there. It was no one else’s business, as far as they were concerned.

(Y/N) was precious to him. He was as careful as he could possibly be with her, restraining himself, and his terrifying strength. She fit so perfectly, wrapped in his arms, and he had to do everything in his power to never jeopardize the warmth in his chest he felt when she was near him. She could be rather demure from time to time, and there was always a small concern of his that he would do something she did not like, but she would not say it was so.

“Dima...” She murmured into his shoulder. They were in the gardens of the monastery, taking the time to doze together in the shade. “I trust you...”

He blinked- er, winked. Where had that come from? “Th-thank you, Beloved.”

She curled into him further, “I just... You don’t have to worry about me too much.”

His head quirked to the side like a confused puppy he could often emulate, “How could I not worry over you?” He loved her far too much to not have concern for her.

She let out a small giggle that shifted to a yawn, “I mean you don’t need to be afraid to hold me, silly...”

“I don’t need to...” He trailed off, and then without too much thought, he curled an arm around her waist, and pulled her into his lap, “Is this okay?”

(Y/N) rested her head against his chest, nuzzling into him to hide her blushing face. “Yes, I like this... I like it when you hold me.”

“Alright, Dearest...” It was step one in the long process of him realizing it was okay for him to touch his girlfriend. He would hold her as much as she wanted.

He’d figure it out eventually. It took time. His beloved lady was not the best at outwardly expressing herself. Communication was key, and it was up to him to facilitate. Easier said than done. Unintended escalation became a running theme. Pecks would linger longer than they should, his hands would land in less than acceptable places when they were in public.

She would get so flustered some times, squeaking out a little yelp followed by her stammering out his name. He would come to his senses, immediately stopping, of course. Things weren’t going to escalate if she became rattled each time things took the slightest turn in that direction.

Which is why their first time together was such a genuine surprise. (Y/N) was the one who initiated it. They had gone off together, departing from the roaring celebration in the wake of the liberation of Arianrhod in exchange for some quiet time in each other's company. Their stroll was peaceful, and undisturbed, but time got away from them. It was a bit too late in the evening for him to allow her to go home unescorted. But she lived in town, and town was awfully far away after the exhaustive festivities.

“Could I stay in your room tonight?” She couldn’t even look him in the eye, she sounded so shaky as she asked, “It’s just- well- I mean it’s a far walk-”

“Of course you can stay with me, my Beloved.” He replied, before she became so nervous she lost the ability to speak. He gave her hand a tentative squeeze. “I can take the floor, if you would like-”

“No- no, no! It’s fine!” It was her turn to interrupt before he got too flustered to complete his own thought, “We could- uh, we can stay together, right?”

“Ah, as you wish.”

He could see her laying next to him, as the moonlight glinted off of her. She was staring up at him, her head rested on his shoulder. He had given her one of his own shirts to sleep in. It was beyond his understanding how that somehow made her even more adorable.

“Is that comfortable, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, extremely,” Her smile was soft, soft enough to make him melt. Soft enough to make him feel safe, and at ease. So, this was love? What a wonderful sensation... “You’re so warm,”

She was comfortable, good, good. Seeing her happy always made him so impulsive. He leaned forward, slightly enough to plant a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. In return, she reached a gentle hand up, brushing strands of hair from his face, before her fingers trailed to the back of his head. He felt his eye patch fall away. He didn’t know what to say or do in response. Before he could react, she gave him a peck on his bad eye.

That was love. Truly, it was love. She loved him despite everything about him. Every awful thing about him that he hated about himself. Emotion overwhelmed him, and he brought his lips to hers. He had been alone for so, so very long. To hold someone so warm, so alive, so close to him... It meant more to him than words could possibly express.

“Dima..!” She squeaked. She was on top of him now. He had pulled her there almost effortlessly. She had leaned away from him, evidently rather surprised by the sudden motion.

His senses returned to him, “Oh! I-I apologize, Beloved...” He had been making strides in being attentive to her, but he had slipped up, clearly. She was stammering something out to him, her face red. His Highness did not understand what could have her so rattled, until he realized where his hand was. He had her kept in place with a hand...  _ lower _ on her than a gentleman had any business keeping contact with. “... Ah.” He did not pull away. He could not bring himself to do so.

“Oh- I- uh- is- is this what we're doing tonight..?”

Dimitri’s mouth opened to answer, but not a sound came out of him. Why was his heart rate kicking up? Why hadn’t she scolded him, or pushed him away further? What... what was this..?

“Is... Is this how you wanted to celebrate Arianrhod?” Her head tilted, a still bewildered, but slightly more curious expression adorned her features, as she let herself lean a bit more onto him, “I- I suppose...”

What?

She kissed him again, but a much stronger smooch than her normally gentle peck. He was quite obliged to return it. He did love the way this all felt, obviously. He loved (Y/N) more than anything.

Oh. Right then. That’s what she meant. She was letting him keep going. He could feel himself bunching up the shirt he had given her, only breaking away from her to pull it up over her head. Her skin felt warm. She was always so warm. Comforting. Safe. That was how she always felt to him.

She groaned a bit in response to his touch, “... Your hands are cold...”

Hers weren’t. He took them in his own, so much smaller than his own. Warm like her heart, which he could feel beating against him. They had somehow managed to switch around their positioning. She was on her back with him lording over her. They were both panting. “I apologize...” For having cold hands. Other than that, everything he was doing felt right, and perfect. He loved this. And for once, he did not feel guilty about feeling something positive.

She was actually managing to hold eye contact with him. It really was something, for someone who could be so diffident. That was trust. (Y/N) looked like an angel, looking up at him. There was hardly a scar on her. Untouched by all the evil the world had to offer. It made her all the more precious to him. 

Did he have any right to touch her the way he was..? Was it right for them to undress each other? Was it okay for her to wrap her legs around him? What would he do if he hurt her by mistake?

“It’s okay, Dimitri...” She cooed into him as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in closer, “I’ll be okay.”

Yes. Yes everything would be okay. He would be as careful as he could possibly be, while he shared all the love in his heart for his (Y/N).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imma level with you folks. When I said one last heist, I think I meant it. I’m tired. There was a point in time where I was cranking one of these out every two days. This one took me two weeks. 53 one-shots? Stemming from one short fic I wrote around a year ago? I think that that's plenty, yeah? I always wanted to turn out quality work for everyone asking for it, give them something to help get through these rough times we’re going through, and I think I’ve done it to the best of my ability. I can feel myself getting exhausted working on these. I can feel the burnout coming on, and I would rather not turn out less than adequate work for you all. I don’t feel like working on things that I don’t enjoy either, you know?  
> I think it’s appropriate where we are starting and ending. We began with a smut fic my buddies dared me into, and we end with a smut fic that has been politely requested of me. We’ve come in a full circle. I even threw in one last ‘blinked- er, winked’ for the road. My favorite gag!  
> I think I can accept that. I hope you can too! Thank you guys for all this support on all this, it’s meant a lot, and it kept me going. I have literally written a novel’s worth on this man. Hot diggity.
> 
> If I’m floating around on AO3 from now on, it's probably just going to be novelizing me and my friends’ D&D Campaign. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long, long, long time, but between this, and Uni, I just really haven’t been able to. Check it out sometime, if you’ve ever enjoyed that odd sense of humor in my writing that I seem to have. I promise, I’ll try to make it really good! Oh, also, check out my buddy Mamshiba101! She and I are part of the same campaign. Some of her works and mine are in the same universe, but she’s also working on a coffeeshop au crack fic of ZarbonXTien from Dragon Ball Z, and that’s just fucking hilarious and all of that deserves attention. (Also she's novelizing her other friend’s Curse of Strahd Campaign, and it’s just grand!)
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me. Anyway, see you around <3


End file.
